


The Professor

by chefke



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teachers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Death, Children of Characters, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-06 03:31:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16380563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chefke/pseuds/chefke
Summary: As part of his parole, Draco must return to Hogwarts to fill the now, cursed Potions Professor position. Returning to the place where he lost his parents and his entire life isn't easy especially when his old Gryffindor classmates are teaching there.Warnings for characters deaths, light smut (in my humble opinion), and trauma. I can't write what the trauma is at it will spoil the story.





	1. Chapter 1: The Potions Professor

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This work was part of the DFW Halloween Trope Fest. My trope was Professors and Hogwarts. Let's be honest the story wrote itself. Much love to my amazing beta msmerlin, without whom I most probably would have filed this piece and not posted. Thank you!

**The Professor**

**Chapter 1: **The Paroled Potions Professor****

****

* * *

Draco Malfoy stood in front of the mirror staring at himself with utter loathing. He was going back, back to the hell hole that took everything from him. He straightened his tie as he stared in the mirror.  
  
Hogwarts had been the place his mother was killed by Voldemort and his father by bumbling idiots called Aurors. His life had only been spared because of… Draco rubbed his chest. Fucking Weasley. It had to be him, hadn’t it? Couldn’t it have been Saint-Potter that saved his life?  
  
Bloody Ginger prick went and saved Draco’s life after his father ended his brother’s. Worse, Ron Weasley knew his father was the one who cast the bombarda that collapsed a wall on one of his twins brothers. He had testified as much when Draco was accused of killing Fred Weasley, simply because someone saw white hair behind a mask.  
  
Weasley’s testimony didn’t matter in the end though, Draco was still sentenced to Azkaban by the Wizengamot. They also tried to seize Malfoy Manor and all of Malfoy holdings after they sentenced him to death via life in prison.  
  
Imbeciles.  
  
Almost six years later and they still couldn’t get onto the property. He knew because the guard in his cell would drop him off the Prophet once a week. The guard was convinced that Draco would get out of prison and when he did, he would bestow some magical inheritance on him. It was through the guard that Draco had learned that Gringotts refused the Ministry’s demands for money withdrawals from his account and the Curse Breakers inability to remove his familial wards on his vault and home. They were Malfoys, what did they expect?  
  
As Draco was the last of the Malfoy family line, there wasn’t anyone else to actually get them passed the initial wards on the property. He had, of course, told them all of this in court, after they sentenced him to life in prison and then thought they would throw it in his face that they were taking all of his money. What did he need his money for in prison?  
  
It had taken six years but his solicitor was finally able to get him an appeal. After six months of going head to head with the Ministry of Magic, the Minister of Magic himself offered Draco a plea deal. Endure angst fueled teenagers at Hogwarts or the cold hallowed walls of Azkaban, it wasn’t really a choice was it? As the curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts position had transferred to the Potions Professor, it was worse.  
  
Every teacher that held the position since Snape’s demise was incapacitated within three months of accepting the position. No one wanted to teach the position, but the students still had to learn. Whose life was better to throw away than a convicted felon?  
  
Draco leaned over the table in the sparse and dimly lit room, he had been provided with and tossed back a potion. The pressure eased from his chest until it was remotely bearable. Right now he needed to rest.  
  
There was something Azkaban was good for, rest. Draco’s injuries sustained from the final battle were never healed properly and therefore, had become chronic. While he took daily potions to keep him alive, it was the quality in life that was severely lacking.  
  
Why keep someone alive in a dusty freezing cell, just so that you can spend hundreds of galleons a year to pay for their mass amounts of potions needed to keep them amongst the living? It was a waste of everyone’s fucking taxes, including his own that he was _still_ paying.  
  
A quiet knock on the door pulled Draco from his thoughts. “Mr. Malfoy, are you ready?”  
  
“Yes, Auror Bartley.” Auror James Bartley had been slipping him extra food rations, The Daily Prophet, and the occasional chocolate bar while Draco was incarcerated.  
  
The door opened to admit the bucktoothed balding Auror. Draco nodded to him as he guided him down the hallway and towards his new cell, Hogwarts. Well, he would need to go to the Warden’s office first to use the Floo, but then Hogwarts.  
  
Just as they approached the door Auror Bartley placed a warm hand on Draco’s shoulder. “Don’t be getting in any trouble Mister Draco. Them fancy solicitors worked really to get you out of prison. I don’t want to be seeing you back here.”  
  
Draco quirked an eyebrow. He thought momentarily about snapping back when he realized there was a very likely chance Draco would be back within the year. Best not piss off the one person who didn’t hate him.  
  
“Take care of yourself, Auror Bartley. Look after your daughter.” The Auror’s face lit up at the mention of his young daughter, whom he shared custody of with his estranged wife. Ushering him through the door to the Warden’s office Draco could swear he saw tears in the wizard’s eyes as the door closed behind him.  
  
  
“Malfoy,” came the cold and angry voice that Draco learned to hate. Draco contemplated sitting on one of the extremely familiar steel chairs in front of the Warden's desk. He decided against it. He had learnt long ago that when the Warden was in a particularly foul mood, he was known to spell the ropes on the arm rests of the chair to burn the inmates wrists until they passed out.

 

Draco had been victim of this tactic multiple times and he had the scars to prove it. The Warden had it recorded as a suicide attempt, but everyone in the prison knew better. Half of the inmates shared those scars. Draco knew if he passed out in the Warden’s office today, it would not be a fabricated story of self aggression but one of aggression towards the Warden and Draco would be stuck in this hell hole forever.  
  
Draco chose, instead, to stand behind the chairs. Standing at his vantage point made Draco taller than the seated Warden. That gave Draco the higher ground and was a small comfort to him as he stood in the room that was the reason for many nights spent in the infirmary. He could also see that the immaculately clean desk had only three items on it that were not visible when one was seated. A calendar that informed Draco that it was the first week of July in 2004, a parchment and self-inking quill, and a picture of the warden at Hogwarts with his arm around a ginger in a beater Quidditch uniform.  
  
Draco tore his eyes away from the picture and resisted the urge to sneer, something the Warden was famous for doing just before he began issuing punishments. “Jordan.” He responded calmly.  
  
“It’s Warden Jordan, to you.” Lee Jordan was sitting straight in his oversized chair, his dark feature reddish in hue. If there was one prisoner Lee Jordan hated, it was Draco Malfoy.  
  
Draco’s father killed his best mate and since his father wasn’t around to torture, he took it out on Draco. It was small things like missed showers, being placed in solitary, or not being allowed visitors, but when one only had these small things, they added up.  
  
“I hear you’re going to miss me, Jordan.”  
  
Lee Jordan ground his teeth together. “I fought the appeal tooth and nail Malfoy. Tooth and fucking nail. You deserve to rot in that cell.”  
  
Draco inspected his fingers looking for dirt that, for the first time in almost seven years, was not there. “Well, clearly the Minister and the Wizengamot don’t agree with you.”  
  
“Keep being cocky Malfoy. When they toss you back in here I am going to make your life a living hell.” Jordan's hand twitched towards his wand and Draco's nerves went into overdrive. Why did he have to see the Warden in order to leave? Couldn't the Aurors just collect him and take him directly through the Floo?  
  
“Let’s be honest Jordan, you did everything you can do within the confines of the law. Sure, go ahead and violate the laws set down by the Wizengamot. You've met my solicitor. I’ll have you in an adjoining cell because Merlin knows that’ll be entertaining.”  
  
Jordan’s eyes went wide. “Get out! There’s the Floo. OUT!”  
  
“My wand?” Draco asked patiently.  
  
“Minerva has it. Get out of my fucking prison you useless piece of shite.”  
  
Draco nodded and turned his back on the Warden. The Floo was lit for him and unlike normal Floos, this Floo was keyed to only the Ministry. Auror Bartley said they had to bring in three specialized wizards just to connect his visit to Hogwarts for today. His solicitor tried his very hardest to navigate his way around having Draco transported through the Ministry. Protocol dictated that when a prisoner transport was being arranged that they go through the Azkaban Auror office on the main floor of the prison. Their Floo was directly connected to the Auror Office in the Ministry.

  
Apparently, the Minister of Magic was concerned about Draco making an appearance within the Ministry and on Diagon. Draco knew that Auror Bartley was hiding something from him. A little over a year ago, James started cutting out sections of the Prophet or hiding entire pages of it. When Draco asked him about it, he claimed his daughter liked to look at the pictures on those pages. Draco knew his daughter lived with his wife and that there was no way an eight year old read the Prophet.  
  
Draco tried to ask the other guards about it, but his questions only enraged them to the point that Draco stopped asking. Whatever had happened, everyone knew about it and it shook the Wizarding World. It was also, quite obviously, something to do with Draco and his family.  
  
Stepping through the Floo, Draco briefly wondered if he was making a mistake. If he should stay in in the prison he knew rather than one he did not. The flames engulfed him just as he steadied his resolve that out of Azkaban he could at least look up a Daily Prophet from the last two years.  
  
Minerva McGonagall was sitting behind her desk looking as stern as she had his first year of Hogwarts at the sorting. The office had clearly been redecorated. During Professor Dumbledore’s reign of office, the room looked like a thrift shop. It was cluttered with useless things and more rugs and tapestries than there was floor or wall space. Professor Snape had left up half of Professor Dumbledore’s things as well moved in a Potions lab. Thank Merlin, he had rid the room of all Dumbledore’s rugs and tapestries, Professor McGonagall however, did not feel the same as either male Professor.  
  
The office had large windows that took up most of the North wall and boasted a light grey carpet instead of hardwood floors. The walls held only the portraits of the previous Headmaster, excluding Severus, and the surfaces of the furniture were clear of knick-knacks and other random magical items.  
  
“Mr. Malfoy, do have a seat.” When Draco still hadn’t moved, she waved an irritated hand towards the seat in front of the desk. “You’re crowding the Floo. We do have other teachers arriving shortly.”  
  
Draco walked swiftly towards the proffered chair in front of the now, Headmistress.  
  
Draco squared his shoulders, “You have the list of rules?”  
  
Professor McGonagall laced her fingers together and rested her chin on them. She looked him up and down for several heartbeats before collapsing her hands into her lap and leaning back in her chair.  
  
“Draco, I won’t lie. I currently have half of my parents infuriated that I have hired you as a teacher and the other half incensed that I have not been able to secure a Potions Professor.”  
  
“You realize you could have hired a ghost and saved yourself the trouble?” Draco responded sarcastically.  
  
“During the final battle, we discovered just how… unhelpful a non-corporal teacher is during an emergency situation. Hogwarts, for the foreseeable future, will not be employing ghosts.”  
  
Draco gulped nervously. “What happened?”  
  
Professor McGonagall eyes fell, “We lost two entire second-year classes. Slytherin and Ravenclaws. The hallway collapsed and had there been an adult there, they would have been easily able to transport the children to safety. Mr. Filch was able to save three of the children.”  
  
Draco rubbed his eyes. “It was in the East wing, wasn’t it?”  
  
“Yes,” she responded. The East Wing wall that his father had destroyed. Draco rubbed at his chest. That was the Malfoy family dynasty, murdering children and ripping apart families one generation at a time. Now, Draco was supposed to teach these children? Merlin, Hogwarts was closed the year following the war. That meant that the second years would be in their seventh year. Draco pulled at his tie. He did not sign up for this. He did not- “Our seventh and eighth-year class have been combined. The class is considerably smaller than we are used to and extremely well behaved. Given everything they went through, it is not a surprise.”  
  
“What do you want from me?” Draco asked, all fight having gone out of him.  
  
“I want for you to teach the children potions.” Drawing a parchment from her desk, she handed it to Draco. Draco could see the outline of his wand within the parchment “Sign this and return it to me in the morning. You can let me know if there is anything that needs to be amended at breakfast in the morning. Meals in the Great Hall are mandatory year round, I’m afraid. Many children were left orphaned from the war, so Hogwarts offered an extended stay program. We currently have eleven children in the house. The rest are visiting friends or interning for jobs after they graduate. Since the students are here year around, so are we.”  
  
“My quarters?”  
  
“The house elves have informed me that Severus’s old quarters have been opened to you. I hadn’t realized he was your godfather.”  
  
Draco stood from the chair, the parchment clutched in his fingertips. “There are a lot of things no one knew about my godfather.”  
  
“Yes, Draco and the world is a darker place without him in it.” She said softly, her eyes filled with a deep sadness. With that, she returned to her paperwork effectively dismissing Draco.  
  
Draco hurried out of the Headmasters office and unrolled the parchment as he descended the winding stairs. He tried to lift his wand but there was a sticking charm to it. He probably needed to sign the contract prior to his wand being released to him.  
  
Thankfully, there was no one in the halls or on the stairs as he made a quick descent to the dungeons. Slipping into Severus’s quarters was easy, settling into Severus’s thing was not so. No one had gone through his things after he died. Everything was just… sitting. As if he had left to scold Crabbe and Goyle for losing house points or failing a class and would return in any minute.  
  
His personal quarters were immaculate. Despite not being used for six years they were clean with not a speck of dust to be found. On the small dining table was a plate of steaming roast chicken with peas and mash potatoes. It was accompanied with butterbeer and a pot of tea. After inspecting it that it hadn’t been sitting for six years, Draco went to the bathroom and washed up before drinking a cup of tea.  
  
Having been living off of prison food for far too long, Draco took small bites. He had only managed seven or eight small bites before his stomach protested and the meal resurfaced. After cleaning himself off again, he brought the tea set to the study area and withdrew the parchment.  
  
He was going to need to sign it so he could have his wand back. It didn’t really matter what it was required of him, he didn’t really have a choice did he?  
  
Draco began to unroll the parchment when he heard a child’s giggle. He stood on instinct his eyes wide searching for the source of the noise.  
  
Straining his ears he heard the noise again but this time it was coming from the potions classroom attached to the living quarters. Draco pushed the door open just in time to make out a dark red head of hair whipping out of the darkened classroom and into the hallway. Draco took a step forward to pursue the small redhead when he inhaled a lungful of dust and sneezed.  
  
The room hadn’t likely been used in as long as his quarters were. Turning back on his heel he returned to his room convinced he was seeing things and needed to sleep.  
  
As the door closed behind him a pair of glowing eyes followed him until he was in his bed before giggling and skipping out, once more into the hallway.


	2. Chapter 2: Little Redheads

**The Professor**

**Chapter 2: Little Redheads**

* * *

Draco slammed a dusty cabinet closed and coughed as he inhaled a lungful of dust. His night had been long, to say the least. Sleeping in an actual bed  _ should  _ have been amazing. Instead, he spent the whole night tossing and turning until he stood up with his blanket and pillow and slept on the rug in front of the fire.

Since he only fell asleep as the sun was rising, he ended up sleeping through breakfast as well as lunch. He only woke up when Professor Longbottom came to check in on him. After being startled at the sleeping arrangements Longbottom left and returned several minutes later with food.

He sat with Draco while he ate being a bloody nuisance as he chattered on about each student in the entire bloody castle. When Longbottom finally left, Draco took his fresh pot of tea to the study table and read through the contract. It was a fairly standard employment contract, almost as if this wasn’t his parole.

 

Flipping the parchment over he got to the Ministry issued stuff;

  * Mr. Malfoy may not use defensive magic under ANY circumstances. Failure to comply will result in immediate transport back to Azkaban.
  * Mr. Malfoy may not use wandless magic under ANY circumstances. Failure to comply will result in immediate transport back to Azkaban.
  * Mr. Malfoy may not use wordless magic under ANY circumstances. Failure to comply will result in immediate transport back to Azkaban.
  * Mr. Malfoy may not leave the Hogwarts grounds unless it is for Hogwarts teaching duties.
  * Mr. Malfoy may not maim, threaten, attack, or injure any individuals. Failure to comply will result in immediate transport back to Azkaban.
  * Mr. Malfoy will consent to wand monitoring, in addition to monthly Auror spot checks. Failure to comply will result in immediate transport back to Azkaban.
  * Unless accompanied by an Auror, Mr. Malfoy may not return to Malfoy Manor or any properties owned by the Malfoy or Black families.
  * Mr. Malfoy is to attend all of his Professor duties as listed on the previous page.
  * Any mention or attempt to spread Pureblood propaganda by Mr. Malfoy will result in immediate transport back to Azkaban.
  * Mr. Malfoy is required to attend a class once a week for a minimum of two hours on Muggle Studies. The class will be provided by the current Muggle studies professor.
  * Mr. Malfoy must achieve an Exceeds Expectations or higher, at the end of term on the Muggle Studies class, should he fail he will be transported immediately back to Azkaban.



The list went on and after reading the letter several times and committing it to memory he signed it. His wand fell into his fingers.

After so many years without his wand, he expected to feel a rush of power or a feeling of empowerment. But all he felt was a bit of wood between his fingers. Standing up, he walked towards the adjoining classroom and swished his wand to clear the dust and organize the chairs and shelves. It took several minutes and the room was back to what it had looked like when Draco was a sitting amongst the student seats.

He looked down at his wand hand, missing the joy and power he felt when he used his wand for magic. Palming the length of wood between his fingers he slipped it into his pocket before returning to his quarters to work on his lesson plans.

Dinner was a tense affair, where most of the staff ignored him and the students cowered under his gaze. This was what Severus must have felt like, like a pariah.

Minerva and Longbottom attempted to draw him into conversations twice but Draco was exhausted. He barely made a dent in his lesson plans. Despite having every single one of Severus’s old lesson plans, the Ministry of Magic updated their Potion age requirements every year. This required a Potions Professor to make a new syllabus  _ every year.  _ It was no wonder Severus hated the position.

According to Longbottom the Defense Against the Dark Arts curriculum was not made by the Ministry of Magic. Herbology, the class he was teaching, was more laid back and gave him quite a bit of leeway. Draco also needed to have his syllabus done earlier than any other teacher because Longbottom needed to bloody  _ grow  _ his ingredients.

He also had some half-cocked idea about working together so that the students made the entire potion from start to finish. They would make the plants that were needed for the potions that they would be making with him. Draco rubbed his eyes as he sunk back down in his chair. His chest hurt and he needed to rest.

Climbing into bed, he tried for the second night in a row to fall asleep. After his imagination began to wander and he saw shadows of animals that were not really there, he got up took dreamless sleep and went to sleep on the rug.

The next morning was more or less the same, except Longbottom came to collect him before lunch today. He talked the entire way to the Great Hall. Apparently, he was seeing Hannah Abbott. She bought the Leaky Cauldron from Tom and had re-designed the entire place with the help of the one surviving Patel twin.

Draco listened as Longbottom rambled on through lunch about the different flowers he was growing for the tables as well as the flower boxes she had installed on the walls of the pub area and in the guest rooms. Auror Bartley hadn’t made him listen to floral arrangements, neither had his mother for that matter.

“Neville dear, have you spoke to Hermione today?” Minerva interrupted. Draco’s eyebrow disappeared into his hairline. Granger was a teacher here?

Neville turned his full attention to the Headmistress. “No, but she sent an owl that she would be back later in the evening. The weather in Ottery St. Catchpole was a bit spotty and Molly didn’t want her to apparate in middle of a storm.”

Minerva raised an eyebrow. “Emma?”

Neville pouted. “She pulled up all of my blue ivy bulbs.”

“Oh, Neville.” Minerva chuckled. “I did warn you to keep her out of the Green Houses.” 

“But, I just wanted to show her…”

Several chuckles went around the table as the other teachers shook their heads murmuring their sympathies.

Minerva smirked. “I assume you’ll be busy the rest of the day replanting?”

“Yes, if we want them before December. I was hoping you could keep an eye on her?” Longbottom asked pitifully.

Minerva smile disappeared into a frown. “I have a meeting with the Minister or I would take her with me. Are there any teachers not tutoring today?”

The table went silent.

“Draco isn’t! He’s doing lesson plans in his quarters!” Longbottom piped up. Draco went over the wording of the parchment he signed. Did it say anything about muggle choking Longbottom?

Draco cleared his throat. “I’m near completing the third year syllabus.”

“Perfect. Neville, bring Emma to Draco’s quarters after lunch. Merlin knows we can’t leave her alone with Aberforth again.” Chuckles went around the table and Draco, not for the first time, felt like everyone was sitting around laughing at him.

When lunch concluded Draco walked swiftly towards the dungeons to await whatever hellcat they were sending his way. As he was nearing the lower staircases, he heard heavy footfalls rushing after him.

“Draco! I mean, Professor Malfoy!” Draco turned around to find Longbottom breathless as he chased him down the hall, his robes askew. “Umm… Hannah… There’s an emergency and I have to go! Emma is in the Second Greenhouse,” clapping Draco on the shoulder he turned around and headed for the staircase that would lead him to the Headmistresses office, “I owe you one!”

Draco rolled his eyes and turned around to walk towards the Greenhouses. Leaving the castle was like being hit by the Hogwarts Express, a sheet of humidity was thrown at his chest, causing the burning heavy feeling to return. Casting a cooling charm, he marched his way to the Greenhouses cursing Longbottom under his breath.

Students who were sitting on the Hogwarts greenery scurried out of his way and Draco marveled at his inner-Severus he possessed. Arriving at the cluster of Greenhouses, Draco reveled in the cool breeze and shade they provided. Standing in the doorway of Greenhouse two, he called, “Emma.”

Shite. What if Emma was a dog or something? It would come, right?

“Who are you looking for?” asked a small voice to his right. Draco almost jumped out of his skin at the sudden appearance of a small girl, no older than six. Standing next to her was a black dog, no wolf, large enough to be a grim. Sitting the beast was taller than her, not that she seemed to notice or care.

“Where did you come from?” He asked, edging away from the wolf.

“I followed you from the castle.” She responded sweetly tossing one of her two red braids out of her face.

Draco raised an eyebrow. He was being followed by children now, lovely. “What is your name child?”

She looked at him and smirked, “I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”

A smart arse, lovely. “My name is Professor Malfoy. Where are your parents?”

The girl's eyes lit up. “ _ You’re  _ Professor Malfoy?” Her jaw dropped and Draco was confused, as the small child lacked all malice and hatred in her voice.

“Er, yes?”

Her long red braid swung around her shoulders, as she danced happily around Draco in a circle. The wolf stayed seated in its spot, looking bored. “I’ve been waiting to meet you my whole entire life Mister Malfoy! I’ve been begging my mum to take me to visit you but she wouldn’t let. She’s no fun.”

“What mums are?” Draco retorted. Wait, why was a five or six years old trying to find him? “Who are you again?”

“Oh, how terribly rude of me.”  _ No. No. No.  _ “My name is Emma Weasley-Granger. My mum and dad used to say you were a war hero. Uncle Harry doesn’t like to talk about you though, Auntie Ginny said it makes him sad.”

Against his better judgment, Draco asked, “Why does it make Uncle Harry said?”

“Because of Dad.”

“The Weasel-, I mean why is your dad sad?” Emma looked at Draco like he grew an extra head.

“Dad isn’t sad.” She said matter-of-factly. The wolf walked over and stood protectively over her. So he was her familiar.

“You just said-”

“Daddy can’t be sad,” she shrugged. “Mummy said so, also Uncle George.”

George Weasley? What the bloody hell was this kid talking about? “Uncle George?”

“Yeah, Uncle George says that Uncle Fred can’t be sad anymore because he’s in a safe place, like my daddy.”

Draco’s heart stopped. Fred Weasley was dead.  _ Fred Weasley was dead. _

Ron was dead? Ron Weasley was dead? Why would-

The newspapers. They would have covered one of the Golden Trios deaths. Why the buggering hell would Bartley hide…

Draco’s chest began to burn. Stumbling, he leaned on the wall for support as memories from the war came crashing down on him dragging him under the tidal wave of emotions that the war left him with.

_ “MUM!” Draco shouted as he struggled to get to his mother’s fallen body. _

_ As soon as Potter miraculously rose from the dead, Draco tossed Potter his wand. It was instinct. He didn’t think it through. Potter needed to end this. The Dark Lord needed to be stopped and the world put back in its rightful balance. _

_ “AVADA-” _

_ “PROTEGO!” Draco felt his father’s arms yank him back as a wand flew into his fingers. His fingers wrapped around the silver and onyx bumpy handle and he knew immediately it was his mother’s wand. _

_ They were in the middle of a war zone! His mother needed his wand. She needed- _

_ Draco looked up in time to watch Voldemort cast a Crucio and then Bombarda at his mother. He watched as his mother’s body exploded around him. Splattering his face with the remains of the person he loved most in the world. _

_ “NO! MUM!” Lucius dragged Draco backward by his Hogwarts robes, as he attempted to rush at the Dark Lord. _

_ His father was shouting over the chaos. “Draco, your mother just gave her life for you! Stop trying to throw it away!” _

_ “Let go of me!” He snarled at his father. “You did this! You killed her! MUM!” _

_ Draco struggled uselessly against his father as he dragged twenty feet away from were the Dark Lord and Potter were dueling. Draco’s eyes were clouded with tears as he cursed his father’s very existence.   _

_ “IT’S MALFOY!” Draco was forced face first into the ground as at least four shouts of the killing curse were sent in their direction. His father fell lifelessly over Draco’s body, that he had just pushed out of the way to protect. “THERE’S ANOTHER ONE!” _

_ Draco instincts drove him to his knees as he manically crawled as fast as he could. Shouts were heard over his head and explosions made their connection several hair breaths from his head. Draco stumbled to his knees and began to run until he hit a wall of the courtyard, turning in terror he faced his attackers. _

_ Aurors. _

_ He was going to be killed by Aurors. _

_ Draco shrank back in the wall as five Aurors descended on him, their wands raised. _

_ “NO!” An arm yanked Draco out of the way as a shower of red lights narrowly missed his head. “Oi! He’s not the enemy! What the bloody hell is wrong-” _

_ Four jets of purple and green light hit his savior squarely in the chest, one tiny light bouncing off the edge of a dark willow wand and into Draco’s chest. He collapsed onto the floor next to his savior. As the darkness took over his vision, he got one last look at the wizard who saved his life. The shock alone caused Draco to pass out. _

_ Ron Weasley had just saved his life. _


	3. Chapter 3: Life Without a Cause

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco wakes up after blacking out to find that life is more complicated than he thought it was.

**The Professor**

**Chapter 3: Life Without a Cause**

* * *

 

Draco woke up in the hospital wing without a shirt and sweating as though he was standing inside bloody fiendfyre. Opening his eyes, he found there was a small lump under the covers buried into his right side. It snuggled closer to him, some of its red hair slipping out from under the blanket.

On the bed next to him sat a wolf, it’s yellow eyes looking at him with concern. It took several moments for Draco’s still-waking up brain, to remember who was lying next to him and why there was a wolf in the Hogwarts infirmary.

“Emma?” He asked in surprise. The snuggled ceased immediately and Emma popped her head up, much like a garden gnome would.

Bright blue eyes stared into his own. “Mister Draco? Are you awake?” 

“Yes, you’re bloody burning hot.”

Emma scrunched her eyebrows into a frown. “You scared me, Mister Draco.”

“You can just call me Draco. How the bloody hell did I end up in the hospital-”

“Mister Malfoy, I am glad to see that you are awake.” Madam Pomfrey appeared from behind the curtain. “You gave us all quite the fright.”

“Fright?”

“Yes, Miss Emma and her familiar Nero, dragged you all the way to the front steps of the school where the students helped levitate you to the hospital wing. You’ve been unconscious for three days.”

Draco balked, “Three days?!”

“Yes, your chest-”

“Is fine.”

“But-”

“It’s fine.”

“Mister Malfoy, as a trained MediWitch I must advise against-” Protested Madam Pomfrey.

“Let it go. I said I want you to leave it alone.” Turning to Emma, he scowled. “Where’s your mum?”

“She left this morning for the memorial service for my dad. She doesn’t like when I go because she doesn’t want me in the spotlight.”

“Spotlight?”

Emma shrugged. “Reporters.”

That Draco understood. An adult in the spotlight was one thing, Emma was just a child.

Draco struggled to stand. He had classes he needed to prepare for. 

Madam Pomfrey reappeared with no less than eleven potion bottles. “Mister Malfoy I must insist on rest, if you must work please do it from the hospital wing. Any further stress-”

“Madam Pomfrey, you are a fantastic MediWitch, but please let it go.”

Her eyes watered as she looked at Draco with pity. He hated it. He didn’t want nor did he need anyone pity. Reaching for his shirt Draco dressed quickly, covering his purplish chest. It was swollen due to the irritation but there was nothing to be done about that. The robes pulled tightly over his biceps and the slopes of his abs. 

There wasn’t much to be done in solitary in prison, so Draco did the only thing he could from wasting away in the hellhole that was Azkaban. He ran laps, did pull-ups, push-ups, planks, anything to keep himself busy. The result was getting hit on by the female Aurors every time he went to use the showers. According to Bartley, there were weekly fights over who got to ‘escort’ him there. 

Standing, he looked over at little Emma who was sitting with her legs crossed. The small redhead was wearing a pretty white dress, a lighter option than the dark blue one she wore three days prior. Her hair was in two braids, instead of the traditional single braid that most small girls wore. “You coming?”

Smiling she hopped off the bed and stood by his side. “Can I color while you work Mr. Malfoy?”

Waving off Madam Pomfrey and her tray of medicine, he walked out the door with Emma and her enormous life-threatening-puppy on his heels. “You can color on the blackboard but you have to erase it when you’re done.” Draco’s answer must have pleased her because she skipped the entire way to the dungeons.

They worked in his classroom for several hours until dinner time was announced throughout the school. Draco waited while she erased the board and she woke up a snoozing Nero before the three set off for dinner. Emma was curious, like her mother and asked questions about the many portraits the passed. Draco ended up stopping and explaining several battle scenes to her and pointing out several notable Slytherin alumni.

“So who was your Headmaster when you were in school?” She asked after they passed a portrait of Armando Dippet. 

Images of Professor Dumbledore falling from the Astronomy and the Prophet detailing Snape’s death flooded Draco’s mind. Potter had found his mangled body after Nagini…

“I had two of the greatest wizards of all time as my Headmasters. Headmaster Dumbledore and Headmaster Snape.” Draco replied as they climbed a staircase.

Emma scratched Nero behind his ears as they waited for the staircase to change directions and take them downstairs. “What were they like Draco?”

“Headmaster Dumbledore? Wise and full of secrets. He always had candy in his office, too.” Emma’s eyes lit up at the mention of candy. “Headmaster Snape always looked out for me, even when no one else did. He always saw the best in me, even when there was nothing to see.”

Emma tugged on his robes. “What happened to him?”

“The war.”

“Oh.” Draco helped her step over the gap as they got off the staircase and onto the main floor. They walked into the main hall and she slipped into a chair with a booster seat at the main table. Longbottom had returned from his ‘emergency’ trip to his girlfriend. If Draco had access to his money, he would bet it was a shagging emergency. 

That night, he was able to stomach some bread and soup for dinner in addition to his tea. Minerva thanked him for his help that day and collected Emma after dinner who, to Draco’s shock, kissed his cheek before being whisked away for bed.

Returning to his room that night he sat in bed staring at the ceiling. The bed  _ should  _ have been comfortable, but Draco couldn’t stand it. Gathering his blanket and pillow he retreated to his emerald green rug in front of the fireplace.

He lay staring at the ceiling above him, ignoring the Giant Squid that was watching him from the window quizzically. Rolling his eyes, he looked towards the glowing pair of yellow eyes hovering at his doorpost.

“Well, are you going to stand there all night?” Emma’s black wolf ambled into the room before curling up near his feet. Closing his eyes, Draco fell into a dreamless sleep.   
  


The rest of the month passed fairly quickly. He worked on his syllabus and ignore Madam Pomfrey’s repeated requests to check in on him. Despite the fact that Granger returned, Emma came to play every day in his classrooms and distract him from anything that would keep him from being properly productive. While he had yet to see Granger, every other teacher was in attendance during dinner. 

According to Longbottom, she was present for breakfast and generally skipped dinner. Pity, seeing as Draco skipped breakfast as well as lunch. Eating too much still wreaked havoc on his stomach and Draco found that the evening meal was easiest on him. It was also easier to handle the many returning students when they were sleepy and full during dinner. During the day Draco avoided leaving his dungeons with the exception of the Greenhouses and the Great Hall.

After listening to Longbottom’s drawn-out plan he agreed that yes, it was a smart idea to have the students build up their potions from seeds to potion bottles. The two reworked their class syllabi together and submitted it to Professor McGonagall two weeks prior to her deadline. A feat that, apparently, hadn’t been done since Dumbledore’s predecessor, Headmaster Dippet was a professor himself.

Draco spent the rest of his time cleaning out all of the fourteen teaching potion classrooms, as well as the four independent potion study classrooms, and the four homework potion classrooms. It was a lot of work and that wasn’t including the fact that he had Emma skipping after his heels in each classroom.

“What is a boggart, again?” Emma asked after Draco trapped the shapeshifter into a spare suitcase and shrunk it down, before putting it into his pocket. Emma hurried over holding his right hand. After a month of babysitting the hard-headed ginger child, he knew better than to refuse her proffered hand. 

He explained boggarts to her again, as the two traveled the three flights of stairs to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. She was practicing the wrist movements for the  _ Riddikulus _ spell with her Weasley Wizard’s Wheezes fake wand when they arrived in the Defense classroom. 

Draco’s voice died in his throat when his eyes reached the front of the classroom. The room was hot, despite the open windows, and Granger’s discarded robes were hanging on the back of her chair, leaving her in just her muggle under-clothes. She was standing on top of her desk, her right arm outstretched as she hung tiny ornaments from the ceiling. Her hair was in a messy bun behind her head and her sleeves were pulled all the way up her forearms.

That wasn’t what made Draco pause though, she was wearing a skirt, it was so short it… well, it wasn’t decent. It made his head feel light and his very skin burn. Why was it so bloody hot in here?!

Granger made a huff of annoyance, as she stood on her tippy toes to loop an orbed ornament onto the string. Her skirt rode up her thighs, revealing a garter that was holding her patterned stockings in place.

Good Merlin. Draco couldn’t even remember the last time he…

Granger leaned forward with the string that she was trying to tie as it blew with the breeze from the classroom windows. Draco watched as her heeled shoes made contact with the edge of the desk. Her ankle twisted and without thinking, he rushed forward catching her in his arms as she fell.

Granger barely had time to scream before she was blinking up in surprise at him. She was much lighter than he imagined. The two continued to look at the other in shock as stormy grey eyes met amber, that was until they heard a giggle from behind them.

“Mum, why is Mr. Draco holding you?” Emma giggled. “You look like a princess.” 

Hermione blushed scarlet as Draco set her down gently on the floor. Once her feet were steady, she removed her hands from his chest.  _ When had they been placed there and why was he sad that they were gone? _

“Mummy tripped sweetheart. How was your day? Did you have fun playing with your new friend?”

“Yes! We brought you a present!” Emma replied proudly.

Granger looked around the room for Emma’s ‘friend.’ Draco groaned when the only other living being was Nero, who was fast asleep on a pile of books.

“I think I’m the friend, Granger.” He drawled.

“Oh, god. I am so sorry. Your classes! Has she been disturbing you? Of course, she has, she asks a million and one questions-” Draco cut off Granger, as she rambled.

“Granger, it’s fine really. She helps clean the boards for the new classrooms and recycles clean notebooks and parchment for in-house students to use. I have a box sitting with Argus.”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of making an official area. I have a box somewhere…” Granger scurried off into her office, only to reappear several moments later with a box filled with spare quills, parchment, inkwells, and notebooks. “I was also thinking of ordering fake wands from George for the first years. The idea is to prevent any… explosions.”

Draco winced as he remembered spending seven years in shared classes with that Finnigan boy and his obsession with pyrotechnics. 

“What does Finnigan do again?” Draco asked as they walked towards Argus’s office. Emma skipped around their feet humming to herself. It was odd seeing her without her familiar, she looked much taller when she wasn’t being dwarfed by an enormous wolf.

Granger re-adjusted the box of things as they neared the staircase. Rolling his eyes, Draco took the box she was struggling with. “He owns a firework and demolition company.”

“Figures,” he said as he held the box like a muggle. 

The two descended the stairs quietly until they reached the main floor. “So, you’ve got a cute kid.”

“Thanks, thank Merlin she got Ron’s hair. I have no idea, what we would have done if she got mine.” They both chuckled. 

“You know there used to be bets going around the Slytherin common room that you hid answer sheets in that mane of yours.”

Hermione scoffed. “That’s preposterous! As if I would ever cheat!”

“So you  _ have _ hidden things in your hair?” Draco’s eyebrows lit up with childlike glee.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “My parents are, were, dentists. They’re Muggle healers for teeth. We weren’t allowed sweets at home, so I would pack up sweets on the train ride home and then ration them out while my parents were at work over the summer. Thought I was being so sneaky, they found out when I had three cavities at the end of the summer.”

“Cavities?”

“It’s a hole made from a buildup of plaque in your teeth. We have a spell for it, but in the Muggle world there’s an entire profession of people that just heal people’s teeth.”

Draco thought over the information he had been given. “Did your parents enjoy being dentists?”

Hermione nodded. “Very much so. They always hoped I would become a dentist. Once Professor McGonagall came to tell my parents I was a witch, they kind of gave up.”

Draco could see Argus’s office down the hallway. “That must have been disappointing for them.”

“I suppose so, but they were so proud to have a witch for a daughter that I don’t think it bothered much.” Granger looked lost in memories, as a sad smile crept up her face. Draco knew the feeling of losing your parents and only having memories, bad and good, to remember them by.

“Mumma, can I have an ice pop?” Emma piped up. Draco almost jumped out of his skin. He had completely forgotten she was there.

Hermione shook her head, “Not before dinner dear and most certainly not after. Maybe tomorrow after lunch, and only if you don’t fight with me during bath time.”

Emma puckered her lips and put on the greatest fakest wail Draco had ever seen in his life. It was so bad he had to cover his laugh. “But I don’t  _ like  _ baths. Why do I have to take them? You don’t take them.” 

“Of course I do Emma,” Hermione’s cheeks flushed scarlet as Draco tried really hard not to think of her in the shower or the bath, or any time where she wasn’t wearing clothes. “Mr. Malfoy takes baths and Professor McGonagall takes baths. We  _ all  _ take baths, darling.”

Emma stomped her foot petulantly. “Nero doesn’t.”

“That’s because I have no idea where Nero came from and quite honestly, he’s always clean. If he’s always clean that means somehow, Nero is bathing himself.”

Emma thought for several seconds before she realized she ran out of arguments. “But, I don’t  _ want _ to.”

“Yeah, but if you take a bath and don’t complain, your mum will give you an ice pop tomorrow. If you do complain, you’ll still have to take a bath and you won’t get an ice pop. The way I see it, cash in on the ice pop and just take a really quick bath.” Draco stopped walking when he realized that Hermione and Emma were staring at him. Shite. Did he say that out loud?

“Okay Mummy, I agree with Draco. I will take a bath on the condition I get five ice pops.” Draco didn’t bother to hide his laugh this time.

Hermione knelt down to be eye level with Emma. “One.”

Emma folded her arms across her chest. “Four and a half.”

“One,” Hermione repeated.

Emma shook her head stubbornly, “Four.”

Hermione rose an eyebrow at her daughter. “One.”

“Mummy, I don’t think you know how bargaining works. Should I ask Uncle George to teach you?” She asked sweetly.

Hermione rolled her eyes and extended a hand to Emma. Draco noticed she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring anymore. There wasn’t even a tan line of a wedding ring. “Okay, two ice pops and not another word. Deal?”

Emma grinned and shook hands. “By the way Mummy, since it’s no backsy-tacksys, I would have done it for one ice pop.”

Draco stifled a chuckle as Hermione shook her head in exasperation. Holding out a hand to help Hermione up, she stood and steadied herself as her heels locked in place. They continued walking the last fifteen feet to Filch’s office. It was still the same filthy mess it had been during Draco’s very first year at Hogwarts.

Hermione held open the door to Argus’s office as they divvied up the items into the appropriate containers. Working together they made short work of emptying the box from her office. As they were exiting the office and the soap preferences for bath time discussion started, the dinner announcement sounded throughout the castle.

Hermione turned to go back to her office as Draco and Emma walked toward the Great Hall.

“You’re not coming to dinner?” Draco asked.

“Umm… I don’t usually.”

“Why not?”

“I usually don’t eat dinner.” Draco looked at her incredulously. Holding up both hands, Hermione rolled her eyes, “Fine, I’m coming. Emma, did you eat dinner yet?”

“Nope, I eat dinner with Mister Malfoy while Mumma takes a nap.”

Hermione blushed again and Draco was surprised to find himself liking the coloring on her. “I do not…” she stuttered.

Draco and Emma chuckled until they reached the Great Hall. 

Dinner was a short affair as classes were starting in several days, so most students were in Hogsmeade or visiting friends so they could ride the Hogwarts Express with the rest of the school. Even most of the teachers were absent, as several were on last-minute vacation getaways before the term started.  

Neville and Hannah left for a retreat to South America in search of some rare plant he wanted to find. He had been gone for over a week and it was taking some getting used to not listening to him chatter in Draco’s ear all day. Draco dipped his slice of bread into his soup and sipped on his water. He still couldn’t eat most solids, besides bread. Draco reasoned that at least he could eat soup and not just plain bread. 

Emma bounced on her seat as she told McGonagall about the Boggart and the spell she learned, using a butter knife to illustrate the wand movements. The older witch beamed proudly at her future student. She then made several comments about how there was an old Hogwarts tradition of the Potion Professors wanting the Defense job. Hermione and Draco rolled their eyes in response.

Remembering the original reason he went to Hermione’s classroom, he leaned over and mentioned the boggart in the shrunken suitcase in his pocket. Hermione looked up excitedly and the two reminisced about Professor Lupin’s lesson and the pros and cons of using it in class. 

The lively debate lasted most of dinner and into the walk out of the Great Hall. Neither teacher noticed that the entire room, save Headmistress McGonagall, was staring at the two in shock as they left the Great Hall, their debate at its height.

Their debate continued all the way to Hermione’s room, where Draco deposited a sleepy Emma into Hermione’s arms. The witch smelled like apples, cinnamon, and honey. She smelled like fall, he thought happily.

“Thank you for your help today, Draco. I really appreciate it. I’ll definitely think about your view of the Boggart. I guess I hadn’t thought of it that way.” She said over Emma’s now sleeping head.

Wishing each other goodnight, Draco walked towards the dungeons deep in thought as he walked. Ignoring the students that were on their way to bed, he walked leisurely through the castle. When he arrived in his room, he was greeted by amber eyes on the rug with his blanket and pillow.

“Yes, yes, I’m coming.” Wishing his wolfy friend good night, he fell into his first, potion-less sleep outside of Azkaban, since his fifth year.


	4. Chapter 4: Manhunk Malfoy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hogwarts scholastic year is in session... and it's not entirely what Draco thought it would be.

**The Professor**

**Chapter 4: Manhunk Malfoy**

* * *

 

The first week of school was as bad as Draco expected it to be. Students were rude and insubordinate. He was called names, to which he issued detentions. Gryffindor house lost so many points, they were in negative. There were also so many detentions issued, by not just Draco, that Headmistress McGonagall reduced the teacher subbing list for Hogsmeade.

Since the student to teacher ratio had so drastically decreased they did not need so many chaperones and the teachers were mostly pleased about their free weekend. Neville was already planning another get-away with Hannah. Draco almost wanted to give back the Hogsmeade privileges so Neville would stop talking about how utterly beautiful Hannah’s hair was.

He’d seen it. They went to school together. It looked like dying straw.

The second week got a bit better and by the end of the month, the school was mostly back to normal. During the last week of September, Draco was told over breakfast by Professor Flitwick that apparently, he was nicknamed Moody Malfoy by the younger years and Man-hunk Malfoy by the fifth and sixth years. As disturbing as the classwide crush was, Draco was pleased it didn’t affect their brewing progress. 

Hermione thought it was vile. Through gritted teeth, she reminded him every morning over breakfast, when half of the hall was mooning over him drinking coffee.

Exams and homework were not just a nightmare for students. Everyone forgets that teachers have to teach exams prep classes, then make up the actual exams, proctor the exams, and then grade the exams. Since it was potions class, he also had to proctor independent study time. Ideally, he should have been able to grade papers during independent study periods, but he learned quite quickly that every year had at least two students that were going to either melt or burn cauldrons entirely.

His eating had improved so that he was able to add basic foods like steamed vegetables into his diet. Sadly, he could only have very small portions. Madam Pomfrey, with the aid of Hermione and Neville, forced him to take regular potions that aided with his recovery and the pain and scarring on his chest was slowly receding. It was a long road but his two annoying colleagues were as persistent as they were chatty.

Draco still slept in front of the fireplace, but now that it was colder the fireplace was lit. He noted that Nero, who still slept on the rug next to him, hated the warmth from the fire and slept as far as he could get from it.

His weekly Muggle studies classes started under the watchful eyes of Alicia Spinnet who hated him as much as Lee Jordan did. When Draco asked about Lee Jordan, Hermione sighed and said, “Fred.”

Draco didn’t need any more explanations than that. Alicia, Fred, George, and Lee were all classmates so they must have all been friends. Draco needed to pass the class, not become lifelong friends with Alicia. Recently, she backed off as Neville joined the class. Anytime Draco needed clarification on something Alicia didn’t cover in her lessons, he would just asked a delighted Hermione. 

Neville was so excited that there were Muggle classes that teachers could attend, that it was now a lovely class of four as two other professors thought it would be fun. They weren’t being tested on it with the stipulation of failing and being tossed back into Azkaban, but sure it was ‘fun.’ 

 

Before Draco was ready for it, Halloween was around the corner. Since Halloween came out on a Sunday, Neville was insisted on a weekend Hallowe’en hunt for the students. The original idea was ridiculous but as more teachers gave their way in, the idea formed into a weekend Hallowe’en Hunt that involved puzzles, fun games, and a costume party. Each event was hosted by a different department and took over the entire school.

Students were assigned in groups of four, one representative from each house. Each team was given a different magical animal as its mascot. Each event would award them ‘points’ in a charmed satchel that they were tasked with carrying with them. At the end of the event, the points would be divvied up between each of the respective houses and each of the students within the group would get a souvenir of their choice with the group's name, their name, their animal, and each of their teammates' names. 

The groups were announced Friday night after dinner, although the event didn’t officially start until Saturday morning at ten and ended Sunday at promptly six, prior to a costume party. Since the event went through the whole weekend, Minerva decided to suspend all common room passwords for the weekend so that groups could strategize overnight in whichever common room they chose. It was also a good opportunity for inter-house cooperation and the chance for students to make friends they hadn’t before.

Each teacher had to make seven different levels of their ‘task’ based on the year of the students competing in it. Professor Powderberry spent several days working on several different mazes and interactive trivia puzzle games using a variety of History of Magic details. The mazes took up the entire third floor, to the point where classes were all classes were dismissed on Thursday. 

Professor Spinnet hosted several ‘muggle’ contests by using traditional muggle festival contests. This included a pie eating contest, a game which including throwing rings onto butterbeer bottles, slamming a hammer onto weight, a trivia game about the current muggle political leaders in the world, throwing around orange quaffle into a bent netted quidditch hoop, and a game that involved tying your leg together with a partner and whilst blindfolded, hopping about doing tasks. 

It was insane. 

Naturally, the students loved it.

Madam Hooch hadn’t even bothered setting up. She simply ran several simplified Quidditch games on the pitch, using four groups to make two teams and a proper game. They were awarded points based off of how many goals they scored, the snitch being removed from the game entirely. Since it was October and the first years barely knew how to pick up brooms, they were given a game that  _ did  _ involve snitches.

Every teacher gathered in Madam Hooch’s cramped and cold office when they heard she managed to procure several Golden Snidgets from the Ministry for educational purposes. The students were allowed to pet them and were given an impromptu art lesson by Madam Hooch. They were awarded points for their art before all of the parchments were signed, collected, and delivered to the Ministry of Magic as gratitude for their help.

Directly next to the Quidditch pitch, Hagrid set up a caged coin seeking game where the first through fourth-year students had to compete against a horde of baby Nifflers. With each increasing year, different magical creatures were added to the cage making it extremely difficult to capture the coins, despite the fact that they were in obvious places. Hagrid’s event due to the difficulty awarded the most points to students. It was also the most repeated event.

Neville arranged a vertical climbing race that boasted different types of magical Ivys and plants. The tricky part wasn’t the climbing, it was what happened when you got stuck under the mistletoe and couldn't answer the herbology based question. One of your teammates would have to climb to you and answer the question for you so the entire team could make it to the top. Professor Sinistra combined forced with Neville and created an Astrological space field with questions on the stars above the top of the Ivy. Once the students answered the Astronomy questions correctly they were lowered down via Devil’s snare and sent off to another event.   

Hermione had gone all out and brought in several Boggarts, a Patronus-learning game for the seventh years, and several practice dummies. Her event was by far the most mentally challenging, but according to the students enjoyable and educational. While the students sweated through their individual games within Hermione’s event, Emma and Nero skipped around giving out refreshments. Several Auror scouts were invited to observe Hermione’s event and if Draco was correct, several of the seventh years would be invited to early Auror training come June. 

Draco had little interest in the event and made a color and smell based contest, where the students had to correctly identify the potion before drinking it. If they were wrong, the potion changed their hair at random intervals throughout the day. While not the most entertaining of events, Draco had several students stay behind to ask about what regular potions they could use to properly color their hair. After the fourth group badgered him, he posted information about a extra credit, hair coloring class the following Tuesday evening.

The clubs at Hogwarts also hosted their own events but they were smaller and all took place inside large classrooms. Those events were planned and hosted by the Headboy and Headgirl with the aid of their Prefects.

Finally, for charms and transfiguration, Professors Flitwick and Whittaker teamed up and both departments hosted a costume party to conclude the evening. The party started off with each student being taught personal care charms as well as, facial transfiguration charms. This included an end to many brightly colored heads of hair.

The weekend, while exhausting, went off without a hitch and Draco was glad to have physical proof that the students were actually learning. After the costume party had concluded and the hordes of sleepy students went back to their dorms, Draco spoke to Hermione about several students who excelled during the races but were falling behind in classes. 

Their debate became lively enough that several other professors got involved. Neville supported Draco in thinking that they needed a way to evaluate the students and see if they could use alternative testing methods. The gathered professor unanimously agreed that all they needed to know was that the students were learning, it didn’t really matter how they confirmed that. 


	5. Chapter 5: Ponces and Nightmares

**The Professor**

**Chapter 5: Ponces and Nightmares**

* * *

 The week after the Halloween fair had students bouncing in their seats. Draco couldn’t wait to ship them all of to Hogsmeade. The first Hogsmeade weekend was the second week in November and since Draco wasn’t ‘on-duty,’ he was looking forward to a nice relaxing day without the pests.

Draco sat behind his desk grading papers when he heard the quiet patter of Emma’s feet.

“Shouldn’t you be in your tutoring lessons?” He asked without looking up.

Emma’s pattering grew closer to the desk, “She wants me to write _lines_.”

“If you don’t practice how to write than how will you attend Hogwarts when you’re eleven?”

Emma’s ears perked up before ducking under the desk beneath Draco’s feet. Her muffled voice whispered from next to his rubbish bin. “I already know how to write. Madam Pince is _evil_.”

At that exact moment, Madam Pince walked into Draco’s office. “Madam Pince,” he nodded.

“Professor Malfoy, have you seen Emma?”

“In this classroom?”

“Yes, Professor Malfoy.” She replied with as much sarcasm as one could pack into a sentence.

Draco looked around the classroom dramatically, “Well, I don’t see her. Do you?”

“She may be hiding.”

“Yes,” agreed Draco. “She is on the small side. Perfect for slipping into the restricted section of the library and hiding there.”

Madam Pince nodded and left the classroom. Draco waited several moments before returning to his grading, ignoring the fact that Emma was still sitting under his desk.

The door opened again, this time to admit Nero, who joined Emma under the desk. Draco, who no longer had room for his legs had to move his chair to the side while the two mischief makers sat beneath the desk. He could hear the crumpling of tinfoil and Draco rolled his eyes before looking down.

Emma was wearing white like she always did. However, in the winter instead of wearing cotton dresses, she wore wool or velvet. Her face was currently covered in chocolate, as was her previously white dress. Nero had no chocolate on his face, but Draco had no doubt that she was feeding him chocolate.

“Emma, you know that chocolate is toxic for canines right?”

“Yes, Mumma told me. It’s okay for Nero though, he's not a dog.” Emma had a point, Nero did look more than a wolf than a dog. She held out a small chocolate bar and offered it to Draco. Smiling he unwrapped the Milky Way chocolate bar. Emma and Neville both knew he had a soft spot for chocolate confections from the muggle world. Despite the raging stomach ache it usually left him with, he was easily bribed by the pair with a simple mini bar of chocolate.

“So,” Draco asked after he finished his bar. “How long do you plan on staying down there?”

“Me and Nero want to play in here.”

“I need to work Emma. Can you be quiet?” Emma nodded happily. Draco wrote a quick note to Hermione on a slip of parchment before transforming it into a crane and sending it off to her classroom. Opening his drawer, he took out a notebook and a box of crayons and handed it to Emma.

“Thank you,” she said as began coloring. Draco smiled and returned to his grading.

About an hour in, Draco heard snoring coming from under the desk. Emma was curled up against Nero sleeping soundly. Chuckling, Draco returned to his sixth year Amortentia essays. The spelling was atrocious. Halfway into his first essay, he started taking off points for spelling. If he had to suffer through reading-

“NO! Mumma! Draco! Mumma no! Nero! Nero!” Draco jerked out of his chair and onto the floor. Nero was sitting up his ears alert and his eyes on his human familiar. Draco scooped Emma off the floor and rocked her gently as his mother did for him when he was small.

“It’s okay Emma. You’re having a nightmare. You’re safe, it’s okay.” Draco murmured. Emma’s eyes opened tears streaming down her streaks.

“Draco,” she cried. “I was so scared.”

Draco sat down on the floor, crossing his legs so that Emma could sit in his lap. Nero stood to sit closer to them. “Do you want to talk about it, Emma? Sometimes when I have nightmares and I talk about it I feel better.”

Emma looked at him curiously. “Who do you talk to?”

Let’s go for the real questions, why don’t we? “When I was little I would talk to my mum.”

“Where is your mum?”

“She’s with Uncle Fred and your dad.” Draco didn’t mention his father. For one thing, the likelihood that his father went to the 'Good Place' was slim and he didn’t want to put the idea in Emma’s head that it was possible to lose both parents. One was already too much.

“Oh, so who do you tell your nightmares to now?”

“I write them down in a journal and maybe one day when I have someone to tell then I will.”

“Oh.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

All traces of Emma’s smile disappeared. “The man with the teeth. The man with the teeth, is always watching and he’s waiting,” she whispered.

Chills went up Draco’s spine and his very magical core was on high alert. “Emma, who is the man with the teeth?”

Emma sunk into his chest. “He’s a bad man.”

“Yes, but who is he?”

“He’s a _bad_ man.” She whispered one last time before snuggling her head into his chest and keeping it there. Standing up with the small girl, Draco held her as she snuggled her head into his chest. He walked around the room until she fell asleep in his arms. He was just contemplating if he should sit down with her or keeping walking so she doesn’t wake up when Hermione opened the door.

“Hey, sorry. Is she okay?” Draco nodded handing her off to Hermione.

“Yeah, just a bit frightened. She had a nightmare.”

“I know, I was on my way here when she woke up. I freaked out a little bit when she mentioned the ‘bad man.’ Irma and I had a long chat about who she interacts with during the day. I followed up with Minerva and there isn’t anyone who fits that description. Not even Hagrid-” Hermione rambled. Draco put a hand comforting hand on her shoulder.

“It was probably just a manifestation of her subconscious. Nero watches her like a Patronus. No one is hurting your little girl.”

Hermione’s eyes teared up as she collapsed into a nearby seat. “It’s just… Harry was orphaned at such a young age and he was sent to live with his aunt and uncle. Emma… I mean who would take her in? Molly and Arthur are getting older, Charlie lives in Romania, Bill has two of his owns kids to worry about, Percy is so career-oriented he never even held her as a _baby_ , Ginny and Harry-”

“Hermione, you need to calm down. You just named seven loving family members more than Harry had.” Hermione nodded mutely. “Also, why are you acting like this? It’s not like you.”

Hermione rubbed circles on Emma’s sleeping back. “We found out Ron was sick. Sick and he wasn’t getting better on November fifth.”

Draco didn’t need to look at the calendar to know the date. “I’m sorry.”

“We should have had more time. It wasn’t fair. Emma didn’t get enough time with him. He wanted to teach her how to play chess. I have his chess set wrapped away for her when she starts Hogwarts.” Hermione paused as Draco summoned his tea set from his chambers. “She sleeps with his Chudley Cannons jersey.”

Draco chuckled. “They’re a terrible team.”

Hermione smiled. “They really are.”

Draco poured Hermione tea. She readjusted Emma so she could hold her teacup. She sipped thoughtfully and Draco wondered what was going on in the depths of her mind.

“A penny for your thoughts?”

“They’re not worth that much, but it’s nice to see your lessons with Alicia are coming along. I was thinking about how you know how I take my tea.”

Draco blushed. Of course, he knew how she took her tea, he watched her eat, read, grade essays. Draco was infatuated with her.

Hermione smirked. “A sickle for _your_ thoughts, Draco?” Sure, let's admit that I dream about you.

“Well, we do eat meals together. I was wondering if that position will hurt Emma’s neck when she wakes up in the morning.”

Hermione chuckled softly. “I’m more concerned about Nero. He sleeps so often, I worry he’s getting old. Emma’s so attached to him. I tried to take him to a Healer but he snarls at me when I try to apparate him or take him anywhere near the Floo.”

“So, Emma’s familiar is just as stubborn as she is?” Draco surmised. Hermione smiled at him and sipped her tea. Their silence lasted several minutes, only punctuated by the arrival of an owl with a letter for Draco.

“Draco, I heard you talking to Emma before. If you ever want to talk…”

Draco shrugged his shoulders, an action not befitting a Malfoy or any Pureblood. “I think I need to work through everything in my head before I start sharing it with others.”

“Maybe start off sharing something small?” She suggested.

Draco leaned back in his chair holding his teacup. Lifting his wand, he warmed his tea.

“My mum,” he started when he finally found his voice. “She never wanted this life for me. She begged father to send me Ilvermorny. There was a Black family cousin that taught there. The school was free of prejudices and hatred and she wanted me to be safe in school. Father won though. He always won their arguments.”

“They should have sent you Ilvermorny,” Hermione whispered.

Draco nodded. “We all would have moved to America and stayed there until it was safe.”

“You would have been happy,” she murmured running her hands through Emma’s hair.

“And alive.”

“And alive.”

They sat in silence both lost for several minutes. A loud knock on the door startled them out of their peace and quiet. Three wizards in Auror robes descended into the room. Two aurors flanked a burly man with long blonde hair. On closer inspection, one of the wizards was actually a witch. The other wizard looked vaguely familiar but Draco couldn’t place him under his mop of hair.

“Draco Malfoy?” asked the Auror in the front.

“That is me.” Had he done something wrong? Were they here to take him?

“We’re here for your monthly wand monitoring check. Submit your wand.” Draco handed over his brown Hawthorne wood to the burly Auror.

Thankfully, Hermione stayed quiet. The burly Auror nodded to the other two Aurors before leaving the room.

“Draco, are you going to introduce us to your friend?” asked the male Auror.

“Bartley?”

“The one and only.”

“Wow, the hair is off-putting.”

“As kind as always.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “You’re being rude Draco. I’m Hermione Granger. I’d offer you a hand but my daughter is sleeping.”

The female Auror lost all steel in her face and cooed over Emma. Bartley smiled as well. “She reminds me of my daughter. Sweet girl.”

“How is she?” Draco asked.

“Well, I’m taking a short leave of absence to spend more time with her.”

“That’s so sweet Auror Bartley.” Hermione smiled as shifted Emma to her other shoulder.

Draco was about to ask Hermione if she wanted help when the Auror returned. “Your wand has been sufficiently investigated. We will be back.”

Turning on their heels, they left as quickly as they came.

“Well, he was a ponce,” Hermione noted after the door shut. Draco burst out laughing as he took Emma from Hermione’s arms.

“Let me walk you back to your chambers.”


	6. Chapter 6: A Lifetime Ban

**The Professor**

**Chapter 6: A Lifetime Ban**

* * *

 

The first week of November blended far too quickly into the second. Draco was actually excited to have the weekend off, while Hogwarts descended on the poor villagers in Hogsmeade. Hermione had the whole weekend to spend running after students and making sure no one shagged in the Shrieking Shack.

He’d been making fun of her all week, that was until Friday morning at breakfast when Minerva informed him that Filius was under the weather and would not be able to chaperone the Hogsmeade trip. Hermione had actually giggled and punched the air when Draco became the new chaperone.

No longer having any interest in his toast, he discarded it for his tea. Hermione was chattering happily, a thing she did when she was making plans. Something they were most decidedly  _ not _ doing.

“Hermione,” Draco groaned. “Please don’t make this a thing. You always make it a thing.”

“I am not making it a thing. All I’m saying is that it wouldn’t hurt for you to socialize a bit more.”

“I’m not going into any shops within Hogsmeade. I’ll just terrify the shop owners.”

Hermione rolled her eyes as she bit into her buttered toast. “I think you overestimate how scary you are. Emma, is Draco scary?”

Emma giggled before looking around dramatically. “Is there another Draco?” She giggled

“Okay, little lady. If I’m not scary, what am I like?”

Emma scratched her head in thought, “Like daddy.” She said finally.

Silence descended on the table quite quickly as the oblivious child returned to her oatmeal.

“Hermione-” Alicia began, but Hermione waved her off.

“I loved Ron, Alicia but I can’t be miserable forever. It isn’t healthy. Besides, Emma just means that Draco plays with her a lot.” Hermione was clearly trying to ease the tension but it wasn’t nearly as successful as she was attempting. As one of her schoolyard bullies, Draco knew when she was close to tears. This was it.

“I blame Nero,” Draco drawled. “Damn dog is always in my chambers and Emma follows him everywhere. The thing  _ would _ be ferocious looking if Emma hadn’t dressed him up like a princess during the second week of school.”

The head staff table was filled with chuckles as they all remembered when Emma came barreling into the Great Hall one fine Tuesday afternoon. She was chasing Nero up and down the aisles, his fur covered in shiny ribbons, clips, and bows. The poor canine looked absolutely horrified when he made his grand escape from the Great Hall, little Emma on his heels yelling, “Please, just one more, Nero!”

The students and staff alike had a good laugh. It was so popular, that the Hufflepuffs dedicated every second Tuesday of the month to dressing up your familiar. Draco thought it was annoying but when Hermione bought his eagle owl a top hat and a bow tie, he couldn’t help but put it back on for the dedicated Tuesday each month. Hermione’s reasoning was that since his owl sat in his potions lab watching over the students, looking like a pompous middle-aged banker, he ought to look the part. The students enjoyed the owl's outfit and took photographs with his owl on the second Tuesday of each month. Despite the fun tradition, Nero was never seen with any sort of hair ornament in his hair after that.

Draco was about to ask Emma if why she stopped dressing up Nero when he noticed she was sneaking food under the table. Draco took a peek under to find the big black wolf eating bacon and oatmeal, just like his small mischievous human.

“Honestly, we should just draw a chair for Nero next to Emma at this point.” Nora Whittaker groaned with arms folded firmly across her chest. The Transfiguration professor had a healthy fear of dogs and while everyone either liked Nero or was indifferent, Nora was terrified.

“Nora, exposure therapy is the best way to cure a phobia,” Minerva said cheerfully over her pumpkin juice.

Nora tucked her robes tightly around her feet, “You’re right. Hermione why don’t you take over for Madam Hooch.”

“What’s wrong with the way I teach?” Madam Hooch asked in annoyance.

“Nothing, Hermione is terrified of flying.” Nora quipped.

Hermione set her tea down on the table and inhaled deeply, it was a sign she was summoning patience for an argument she was constantly having, “I don’t  _ hate  _ flying. I just think it’s unnatural.”

Draco snorted. “Unnatural?”

“Yes.” Alicia laughed from down the table next to Madam Hooch. “You're a witch, what about you  _ is _ natural _? _ ”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you flying,” Minerva said thoughtfully. Murmurs in agreement went throughout the table. Draco smiled. He knew exactly where this conversation was going, especially since it was his aunt's vault that had been stolen from. He also noticed that the Great Hall was uncharacteristically quiet. Casting a cursory glance he noticed that every student's eyes were trained on the staff table.

Hermione threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. “Harry, Ron, and I flew on the back of a bloody  _ blind _ Ukrainian Ironbelly to get out of Gringotts, for goodness sakes. I think at this point in my life, I’m entitled to a healthy aversion of flying.”

The Great Hall went completely silent, as everyone eyed Hermione in shock and awe. Draco sipped his tea happily, mentally counting to three. Cutlery clattered onto the tables as the room erupted in near-deafening noise.

“A Ukrainian Ironbelly?”

“There are dragons in Gringotts? Can we go?”

“What color was it?”

“Where is it now?”

“All we got in Care of Magical Creatures were hinkypunks!”

“Why are we flying brooms when we could be flying dragons?”

“Dragon Quidditch!”

“A DRAGON!”

Students were bouncing with energy and Draco chuckled at the lovely flush that was spread across Hermione’s cheeks. There would be a lot of exciting letters going home to extremely surprised parents this weekend.

Minerva called for order as Madam Hooch clarified that Quidditch was played on brooms,  _ not dragons.  _ To which Hagrid so helpfully supplied, “I mean they’d set the balls on fire. Wouldn’t make sense innit? Now, if we could get Quidditch balls that wouldn’t set on fire-”

Cheers rang through the Great Hall as Hermione buried her head in her hands. Minerva dismissed everyone for the day, as chants of ‘Dragon Quidditch’ filled the halls of Hogwarts. Draco’s imagination was in the middle of supplying extremely graphic images for a game called ‘Dragon Quidditch,’ when Hermione tapped on his shoulder. 

“Emma wants to stay at Hogwarts and Sinistra offered to keep an eye on her, not that she needs it. You ready to go?” Draco nodded. The began their walk to Hogsmeade.

The walk there was filled with silence as the two were examining and reinforcing the spells to keep students on the path to Hogsmeade and encourage not to wander say, into the Forbidden Forest.

When they finally arrived in Hogsmeade, Draco took a moment to look around. The small village was barely recognizable. During the war, Hogsmeade was so close to Hogwarts that the small village was under more intense scrutiny than any other village. Every muggleborn in the village was killed the day the Dark Lord took over the Ministry. Businesses were burnt to the ground at the slightest provocation. Halfway through Draco’s nightmare of a seventh year, students stopped going to Hogsmeade because there was nothing to go there for.

When Draco was in Azkaban, he read an article in the Prophet about the half-blood widows that were left behind in Hogsmeade. Every single person in the small wizarding town had lost at least two family members. When asked about their reparations, the owner of Scrivenshaft's replied, “Money doesn’t replace your dead father and wife. Let the Death Eaters drown in their money for all I care.”

Draco was allowed to see his solicitor one a month to keep him updated on his appeal. Following the release of the article, he signed a document giving his solicitor half a million galleons to donate anonymously to the restoration of Hogsmeade. Looking around the village, Draco could see the money was well spent.

The roads were properly paved and homes and businesses completely rebuilt. There were cozy white gazebos in the center of each intersection, carved with a replica of the unity fountain. He noticed small benches along the road on the way to Hogsmeade, and now that he was seeing the gazebos, noticed that they matched. 

Draco stood outside as Hermione hurried in and out of all of the establishments’ students were not allowed in. The proprietors had a charmed parchment they reported on if a student was spotted in their shops. Hermione and Draco had the matching parchments, so they could remove students when necessary.

Some establishments were partially restricted, like pubs or any establishment that rented out rooms. Draco rolled his eyes when he realized they hadn’t put upwards on the shrieking shack. Doubling back he walked to the shack and spent several minutes putting up anti-shagging wards, as well as several other lovely spells he had to learn as a professor.

When he was done, Draco leaned on the railing staring off at the old house. Over dinner several weeks earlier, Hermione told him the depressing tale that was Remus Lupin. It caused several sleepless nights in front of the fire with only bright amber eyes and the sound of the great black wolf occasionally snoring to keep him company.

“A sickle for your thoughts?” Hermione asked as she walked up behind him.

“I was thinking about Remus Lupin and my cousin.”

“Tonks?”

“Yes, did you know her? What was she like?”

Hermione thought for several moments. “She was an Auror that liked to hang out in the Order of the Phoenix headquarters. At first, I think it was because she wanted to get to know Sirius Black, her cousin. Sirius introduced her to Remus and well, I guess I’m just happy that they were happy for the short time they were together.”

“Like you and Ron?”

“Yeah, but not really. Remus lost everything and everyone he ever loved. Life just kept taking things from him, I guess I’m just happy he finally found happiness even if it was right before his death.”

Draco looked at the strong witch standing next to him. Life had taken so much from Hermione too, her parents, her husband, her sense of safety, and if he was being honest, a bit of her mental and physical health. But life had also given her a new family in the form of the Weasleys and the Hogwarts staff. More importantly, it gave her Emma.

Hermione coughed lightly pulling him from his thoughts, “You keep disappearing on me, Draco. Are you okay? Is it hard for you to be back… after, you know?”

“It’s different, that’s for sure. The town suffered worse than most under You Know Who. It’s…” Draco struggled for the word. Was it  _ nice _ that they were rebuilding? No, definitely not. Draco was still struggling for the word he needed when Hermione stepped in to help.

“It’s uplifting to see people crawl through the ashes of the dark times. Hogsmeade took a hard blow, so did Hogwarts. Most of us made it through, banged up but we made it. Now, we just have to learn how to live on with our traumas and remember that the war wasn’t _our_ _fault._ ” Hermione said pointedly.

All the subtlety of a pride of lions in a tea shop, he mused. Instead of pointing it out, he turned the conversation around. “Do you think it has affected Emma?”

“How could it not? She lost her father.” Draco’s eyes fell to his shoes. Sweet Emma lost her father because of curses aimed at him. “I mean, I don’t blame you,” Hermione added quickly.

Draco rolled his eyes, “Thanks.” He said sarcastically.

“No,” she insisted. “Neither of us did. We talked about it when we realized he wasn’t getting better. Ron wanted to make sure I wasn’t harboring any feelings of anger. We were all children in that war. I’m just happy that Emma won’t ever know what it’s like to have Voldemort attacking Hogwarts almost every year.”

Draco let out a relieved sigh. He hadn’t even thought about her going to Hogwarts. “Merlin, she’s going to be dating boys one day.”

Hermione chuckled. “You and Neville should talk. He wants to set wards around her so that if any boys get within a foot they get stunned.”

Draco thought over the implications. They didn’t have to stun the boys, just incap- “Draco Malfoy, that was a joke. Don’t you dare!” Hermione warned.

They chuckled as they walked back to the village. Students were now milling about the village, doing their shopping or stopping into one of the many food establishments for a bite to eat or a warm drink. It was November so it wasn’t feet warming charms season yet, but it was still pretty cold.

Draco looked over at Hermione who was, predictably, shivering. Casting subtle warming charms on her feet, hands, and cheeks, they continued their rounds.

“Thanks, for the charms. We should really head inside, maybe grab a drink?” She said motioning to the Three Broomsticks.

Dejectedly, Draco shook his head. “Even before Azkaban, I had a lifetime ban there.”

“I already spoke to Rosmerta, she said it’s okay.” Draco looked at her in surprise. So that’s why she went into every single shop earlier, she was scouting which shops he would be welcome in and which he would not. “You know she didn’t press charges after the war. Plenty of people did, but she didn’t. She says she doesn’t blame you. I told her not to mention it though, I know you don’t like any sort of attention.”

Draco smiled at Hermione gratefully and followed her into the pub. To be honest, Draco was expecting a dramatic entrance. Wizards with their wands drawn, witches clutching their children, glasses shattering… that kind of thing. In reality, no one paid him or Hermione any attention. Anyone who wasn’t a student was, eating or drinking as quickly as they could trying to get out of Hogsmeade as the students took over the village.

Draco was so distracted by the lack of hexes and pitchforks that he didn’t realize that they were already seated, their coats hanging behind their chairs, and he was being asked what he wanted.

Hermione was waving in his face, “Draco? Oh, ignore him. He’ll have the same as me, but also a glass of Firewhiskey.”

“Aren’t we working?” Draco asked after Madam Rosmerta left.

“It’s just one glass of Firewhiskey,” she shrugged. "Besides, I've seen you drink more at dinner with Professor McGonagall watching. She doesn't approve you know."

Draco raised an eyebrow. “I clearly have a drinking problem. Is this an intervention?”

“No, and stop trying to sound like Professor Snape. It doesn’t suit you. This is you sharing a drink and lunch with a friend.”

“We literally just ate breakfast.” Wow, he really did sound like Severus.

“Well, I never turn down food and I know you don’t either.”

Madam Rosmerta returned with the two steaming plates of pie. Draco kept his eyes on his chair. He imperiused this woman for almost a year. He took away her free will. A warm hand squeezed his shoulder before hastily retreating back to the bar.

Draco moved his food around his plate, trying not to swing his Firewhiskey back to take the edge off. Hermione gave him several moments to himself as she ate in silence. Once Draco’s anxiety calmed down and he no longer wanted to knock back an entire bottle of whatever liquor he could get his hands on, he took a sip of the warmed cider Hermione ordered for them.

Hermione looked up from her plate, a warm smile on her face. She slid her hand over his. “You’re so much stronger than you know Draco.”

“Thank you for bringing me here, I think I needed it.” He ate some of the cottage pie and was several bites in when a thought occurred to him. “Is Filius even sick?”

Hermione swallowed the bite she was chewing, “No, he’s grading papers in his office. He thanks you for taking his Hogsmeade shift and offered to take your next one.”

“Lovely.” Draco finished his pie and dropped more galleons than was needed to feed the entire Slytherin house.

Helping Hermione slide into her coat, the two left to patrol the streets of Hogsmeade. In the first half an hour they broke up two fight, issuing eleven detentions, and separating two different sets of students from dry humping each other and sent them back to the castle.

“We were not this bad when we were at Hogwarts,” Hermione repeated for the seventh or eighth time.

“Two words.” Draco lifted his fingers. “Won-Won.”

Hermione covered her eyes. “No, I almost went a full year without thinking about it. Why would you do that? Why? I thought you liked me?”

Of course, I like you, more than I should anyway. It was a recent discovery that Draco wasn’t wholly comfortable with. Hermione had no problem with physical affection. A friendly shove of a shoulder, congratulatory hug, or even the singular kiss on the cheek when she found out it was his parents anniversary and the Ministry denied his request to visit their graves.

He remembered the entire school whispering about Ron’s broken heart when Hermione was dating Krum. Could he really blame Ron for falling for her? It had taken Ron four years, while he was head over heels in just a few months.

Burying his feelings for her along with everything else he had buried. Smiling at Hermione, he shrugged. “Slytherin.   
  



	7. Chapter 7: A Better Yule Dance

**The Professor**

**Chapter 7: A Better Yule Dance**

* * *

 

Due to a Ministry function, Hogwarts had to postpone their highly anticipated Yule Ball. It had even made the second page in the Daily Prophet. They postponed it by  _ one whole day  _ .

Tossing the newspaper into the fire, Draco adjusted his robes. Emma was playing with a children's potion set that he bought her for Christmas. Hermione had arrived late from the Weasleys and Draco had offered to watch Emma, seeing as he was already dressed.

The Yule Ball was called for five, but staff needed to be there by four the latest. It was three forty and Draco was concerned Hermione forgot about them.

“Emma, please don’t add that vial.”

Emma looked up her eyes filled with mischief. “Why?”

“If you add the green vial before the blue than the potion will overflow and stain your dress,” Draco replied, realizing his mistake too late.

Emma dumped the entire contents of the green vial into her little cauldron. Draco yanked her off of the floor as the potion cascaded over the sides and all over his new rug. “Lovely.”

“I want to run in it! Put me down!” Emma ran with her legs even though she was being held a foot above the ground.

“Fat chance. Neville’s girlfriend just bought you that dress. It was very thoughtful of her to buy you a white dress knowing how much you abhor every other color.”

“I am not a bore!”

“Abhor. It means-”

“Emma, why are you making a mess in Draco’s office?” Hermione banished the mess and Draco set the crestfallen girl down. “Did you make something overflow?”

Emma’s face lit up with excitement. Draco groaned when he realized he was going to have her in his potions class. “Mumma, it flowed right over the top! I had to use the green one after the yellow one!”

Hermione raised an eyebrow as she walked over and fixed Emma’s hair. “Don’t the instructions say to use the blue one first?”

“Why do you think Emma used the green?” Draco laughed. Emma smiled as the three were joined with Neville and walked to the Great Hall. Emma was allowed to stay up until six, which was her bedtime. Then Hermione was going to put her to bed and return whilst leaving a monitoring charm on her bed.

The dancing had just started when a sleeping Emma was taken to bed. Draco was standing on the sidelines watching the students when Minerva forced Draco to dance with her. After a full dance she handing him off to Hermione, who had just come back down, so she could dance with Professor Flitwick.

For the first time in Draco Malfoy’s life, he stumbled. Hermione’s supple fingers held tightly onto his own. Draco willed his fingers not to sweat as he was overcome with anxiety and nerves.

“Did she give you any trouble?” Draco asked.

Hermione shook her head. “No, but apparently Neville promised her a dance. She’s apparently the one brave enough to dance with him.”

Draco groaned. “Already a Gryffindor? I was hoping her troublemaking tendencies made her a Slytherin.”

“In case you hadn’t noticed the founders didn’t restrict trouble making to one house.” The two Professors rolled their eyes. Neville literally encouraged his students to relax and enjoy themselves. This somehow translated into explosions and pranks in every class  _ except  _ Neville’s.

Draco eyed several students hovering over the punch, with a flick of his wand he removed the Firewhiskey they had just poured in it.“It would be nice if we could group all of the pranksters into Hufflepuff and then lock them out of every other common room, wouldn’t you say?”

Hermione chuckled as Nora Whittaker began to yell at the students attempting to pour more Firewhiskey into the punch. “Typical of Neville, encourage students to break things as long as it’s not in his classroom  _ and  _ he’s not even here. He left because of a harvesting for a plant that  _ must  _ be done tonight. Never mind that his students are  _ creating  _ new bloody charms.”

Draco winced. “You heard about the magnet charm?”

“Who didn’t?” Brenda Farren, a devilish first year Puff had cast a bloody magnet charm in his classroom. She, apparently, thought it would only lift the stirring utensils out of the cauldrons. Thank Merlin, they were first years and they were learning about potions for fungus removal. Every single cauldron in the  _ Potions  _ classroom, including racks and racks of spare cauldrons, went flying at the small brunette.

“She only suffered a mild concussion, as well as a lifelong immunity to several types of fungi.” Draco pouted before twirling Hermione around and bringing her back to him. They were standing unbearably close, so much so that Draco could feel her heartbeat skip a beat as her hand caressed the shoulder it was resting on, as they danced.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Madam Pomfrey, also said she’s also allergic to mushrooms.”

“Pity,” Draco replied. “I do love Marsala.”

“As do I, but not apparently as much as Brenda Farren.” The two shared a chuckle before both realizing that they were still dancing even though there was no music. Their eyes scanned the room to find it mostly empty, before meeting again.

Draco’s feet continued to move, even though his mind was telling them they ought to stop.

“So…” Draco started, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable.

“You’re a lovely dance partner, Draco.”

“Didn’t you go the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum in our fourth year?”

Hermione blushed. “Yes, he stepped on my feet the entire night and couldn’t pronounce my name. If I’m being honest, he only asked me out because he thought I had figured out the next task and wanted my help.”

“I doubt that very much, seeing as he picked you out of the lake.”

“Viktor craves power. Losing me as an ally within the Hogwarts walls was losing power, therefore he feared to lose me most. He needed to win the tournament and therefore he needed my companionship.” Draco mulled over the information Hermione had just provided him with. He always thought the two were so close. With Weasley having passed, he always thought the two would rekindle their schoolyard romance. “I can literally see the cogs in your brain moving. Viktor is only single because he hasn’t found the most politically advantageous marriage that works for him.”

“That’s miserable sounding.”

“Wasn’t that what your parents had planned for you?” She asked softly, knowing that his parents were a soft spot and a source of his many nightmares. “If they had survived the war? I always thought you were betrothed to Pansy.”

Images of Pansy’s broken body caused Draco’s shoulders to tense and his eyes to close. He fought with the memories until they returned to the recesses of his mind, where they lay buried with everyone else he grew up with and loved. “No, Pansy was just a friend. Do you remember Daphne Greengrass?”

Hermione nodded. “We were in a study group together. She was really sweet. You were betrothed to her? I thought her family didn’t support Voldemort?”

Draco winced at the name, glad his left hand was around Hermione’s waste so he wouldn’t be able to scratch at his marred forearm. “My mother  _ encouraged  _ me to seek affections from either witch but wasn’t entirely picky as long as I was happy. I grew up with Daphne, she was more or less my sister, Astoria, however, was not.”

Hermione’s smiled brightened to a sun-like degree. “I completely forgot! I took Emma for her yearly visit at St Mungos and I met Astoria and Daphne. They’re both Healers in the Maternity ward.”

“Really?” Draco asked in shock. “Daphne hates babies.”

“They said they have been sending you letters for years. I made an inquiry at the Ministry before we came back and they’re making a request from Warden Jordan to have your mail inspected and forwarded to you.”

Draco balked at Hermione. People had sent him letters? Sure, he had been delivered the hate mail. Howlers and letters filled with hexes and curses that made him sick for weeks on end. He read each and everyone, hoping one of the curses would finally do him in and he would have served his penance for everything he, and his family had done.

“Anyway,” Hermione continued. “I remembered from Care of Magical Creatures that Daphne said she hated all babies, not just animals. We got to talking and apparently, after the fall of Voldemort an old Pureblood curse was released onto her family and Daphne and Astoria both became barren. Astoria was engaged at the time and the two broke it off. She tried to hide it but she’s still devastated.”

Hermione took a step back from him, effectively ending their dance. Her hand, however, remained tightly clasped in his as she dragged him from the Great Hall and towards her personal chambers. He barely had time to blink before he was standing before her bedroom door. Draco felt his throat go dry as she pulled him through the doorway, shushing him as they went. Emma was asleep in the room next door, as everyone knew that a good parent doesn't put silencing charms on their children’s rooms.

Closing the door firmly behind him, she smiled coyly. “I have something to show you.” 


	8. Chapter 8: A Misunderstanding in the Bedroom

**The Professor**

**Chapter 8: A Misunderstanding in the Bedroom**

* * *

Hermione crept as quietly as she could through her room. There were several floorboards that creaked and she didn’t want to wake up Emma next door. The girl was so independent it broke Hermione’s already heavily fractured heart. Losing Ron was like Bellatrix’s dagger, but this time to the chest. Hermione collapsed in on herself leaning on the Weasley’s and most heavily on George, to help pick her back up.

It wasn’t that she didn’t love her daughter, she did. She loved Emma with every fiber of her being, but Emma didn’t need her. She hadn’t since Hermione emerged from her post-Ron’s death haze. She dressed before Hermione woke, fed herself, and if Hermione tried to stop her comings and goings she pitched a fit and refused to eat. Within the walls of Hogwarts, it was tolerable. However, taking her daughter outside of the castle grounds was a fear of Hermione's.

Last year over dinner one evening, Hagrid mentioned he saw her playing on the edges of the Forbidden Forest. Alarmed Hermione sat her down after dinner and asked her about her playing habits. She was on the cusp of her rehearsed speech on safety and boundaries when her five years old smiled at her and asked her if she had eaten that day. Hermione was thrown by the question, as she hadn’t eaten that day. Her six-year-old daughter produced an apple from her pocket, declaring that she had ‘nicked it’ from dinner. 

Smiling to herself Hermione leaned over her small study table. Unlike her work table, her personal study table was buried under mountains of research projects and odds and ends she was working on. Slipping off her shoes as she buried into the mountain of parchment and notebooks, her eye caught sight of the familiar brown parcel.

Within the parcel was a copy of everything Astoria and Daphne had on their curse. The parcel was humongous and contained fourteen generations of research on their familial curse. Hermione liked to read through it when she didn’t have early classes in the morning. Emma was always reminding her not to forget about the ‘sad Mommies.’

She had been reading through it several days ago, when she came across an unfamiliar potion she wanted to ask Draco about. With the entire weekend to plan and boggarts to find Hermione hadn’t had a chance to ask Draco about it. Now, that she had him in her room, she could just-

Hermione’s hand stilled over the parcel’s clasp.

Draco Malfoy was in her room.

Draco Malfoy was standing not three feet from her bed with his hand casually in his pockets. For the first time since he was released from Azkaban, no since the fifth year, he was wearing the Draco Malfoy smirk.

It was sexy as hell in the fifth year, it sure as hell was hot now.

Hermione turned in her back to the table to so she could get a proper view of the room, to ensure that nothing embarrassing was lying around. Simultaneously, Draco took a step forward until he was standing right in front of her.

Hermione’s hands gripped the table behind her in support, as his eyes turned dark. Just as she thought he was going to back away, he leaned forward placing his hands on top of hers. Hermione could feel his slow calming breaths, mocking her own erratic ones.

“You wanted to… show me something?” Draco purred. 

Hermione gulped, her nerves closing up her vocal chords and preventing any form of speech. Not breaking eye contact, Draco lifted his fingers from hers before slowly caressed her hand and then traveling inch by torturous inch upwards. Hermione whimpered when he reached her shoulders and his left hand joined his right, burying themselves deep in her hair. He massaged her scalp with one hand as the other released each one of her carefully placed clips, causing her hair tumble down her bare shoulders.

“I’ve wanted to do that for the longest time.” He murmured.

Hermione's throat was dry. She was aching for something deep within her throat. Something hard and then something wet.  

Draco looked at her as if he just realized something and drew back quickly. Hermione’s hand shot out, surprising them both, holding him in place. “Don’t.”

Draco looked at her with shame and what she now recognized as his own personal brand of self-loathing. “Don’t, what?”

“Don’t look at me like I’m broken. I hate when everyone else does it.”

Draco drew back from her, aghast. “I’ve never-”

“I know. It’s why I like to spend so much time with you. You never treat me like I’m fragile and I’m going to fall apart at any moment's notice. We can talk about the war and I don’t have to worry about winces and whispers and you coddling me.”

A comfortable silence fell over the two of them. Hermione recognized the crossroads they were at. If she took this next step everything would change. She had only ever been with Ron and even though it had been three years, she hadn’t gone on any dates.

Could she do this? Could she do this with Draco Malfoy, of all people? 

Draco looked just as conflicted as she did. Seeing his indecision, Hermione did what Hermione did best. She planned ten steps ahead and plotted out every known and unknown variable. Halfway through thinking of Emma’s half-siblings, she caught herself. Ron had always pushed her to live in the moment and not out of it. 

Looking up at Draco, Hermione took a step forward before leaning her lips onto his. Draco’s arms went around Hermione’s waist as he deepened the kiss. His hands slowly traveled down until they cupped her arse. Hermione squeaked in surprise when they squeezed.

“Is this okay?” He asked, not letting go of her.

“Bed. Now.” Hermione panted, it had been too long.

Draco eyebrows rose in surprise. “Really?” Hermione nodded in response as she kissed a line down his neck. “Hermione, I’m worried I’ll embarrass myself. It’s-”

Hermione sucked on his pulse point, causing Draco’s voice to hitch. She gripped onto his straining erection before smirking devilishly at him. “Now move, or I’ll start without you.”

Draco’s eyes darkened and his hands gripped her arse tighter than before. In one fluid movement, he scooped her up and stalked towards her bed. Wrapping her legs around his waist, Hermione groaned as he peppered kisses down her neck while she tore at her dress desperate to remove the article of clothing from her body. 

Smirking Draco brought his head back up and bit her lip and then licked it. Forgetting about the clothing, Hermione threw her hands around his neck and snogged them both breathless. They hit the bed with a slam to Draco’s legs, jolting them mid-snog. 

Hermione’s hands made quick work of his tie, as he tore the buttons and then his shirt off. His belt and pants slid down off of him as Hermione yanked her silver dress over her head. She sank down onto his length, her walls slick and ready for him

 

“Fuck,” Draco cursed. Hermione moaned in response. He was so big. Shite. Shite.

Draco hands quivered slightly before steadying. With unnatural strength, he lifted her arse before setting her back down until bottomed out. It was slow, sinful, and painfully delicious.

“Draco, shite. I need you harder. Please....” Hermione moaned as Draco began to pick up his tempo. The friction began to build, steadier and steadier it spread from between her legs and took over her body. When it reached her toes, Hermione was lost to the sounds and noises in the room. She shook as she orgasmed vaguely aware that she called out Draco’s name as she collapsed onto his chest.

Draco rode her through her orgasm and into his. She shuddered in his arms as they fell onto the bed in utter orgasmic exhaustion.

Hermione had no idea how long passed until she was able to speak again. “We need to do that again.” 

“Do we?” Draco asked as he nuzzled his nose into her hair.

“Yes, but perhaps a silencing charm so we don’t wake up Emma.”

Draco smirked causing Hermione’s already hemorrhaging heart to flutter. “Already done. I figured she was little young for the  _ birds and bees  _ talk.”

Hermione quirked an eyebrow. Birds and bees was a Muggle expression. “How do you know about the birds and the bees?”

“I have my weekly classes with Alicia. It’s...” Draco felt his face burn red with shame. “It’s part of my parole.”

“The Ministry is making you take muggle classes?” Hermione asked curiously. Once it was out of her mouth, she realized her mistake. Draco was uncomfortable and she was only making it worse.

Draco shifted to move away from her. Tugging on his arm, Hermione tried to pull him back, “I don’t mean it in a derogatory way. I would have taught you though. You didn’t have to go to Alicia. I know she doesn’t like you.”

Draco scoffed, his embarrassment shelved. “Doesn’t like me? She  _ hates  _ me. It doesn’t even have anything to do with Quidditch. She’s-”

 

A loud wail from the adjoining room had Draco and Hermione scrambling for clothes. Hermione grabbed an oversized sweater from the coffee table, while Draco yanked on his boxers and pulled on the Chudley Cannons Quidditch jersey from the bed.  

“Emma, sweetie. I’m coming.”  Half clothed the two adults scrambled into Emma’s room to find her rummaging through her toy box. 

“I have to find it. Daddy, helped me hide it.” Emma muttered to herself. Draco leaned down on one knee next to Emma as Hermione stood next to him.

“Emma,” Draco cooed. “What are you looking for?”

Emma’s eyes glowed yellow as she dove headfirst into the toy box. Both adults shouted her name, Draco grabbed her flailing legs and pulled her out of the box. She was clutching a red and yellow box that she shoved into Draco’s hands.

“What?”

“Give it to Mum!” Emma cried tears began to pour down her face. “You have to give it Mum! Daddy said! He said to give it! They will take you away! You have to give it to Mum!”

Draco looked up at Hermione in confusion. He opened the box and when Hermione’s jaw went slack. He was in the process of handing her the box when the doorway burst apart into tiny shards. Hermione caught the box as Draco rolled over, covering Emma with his body.

“Mumma!” Emma screamed. Draco picked up the tiny girl and held her close to his chest, rocking the terrified child in her nightgown. She gripped his Quidditch jersey, tightly as eight Aurors stormed the room.  _ What in the bloody hell was going on?! _

Hermione was still standing in the same place he left her holding onto the tiny box. Draco, shifted his body to stand in front of Hermione as he tightened his grip on Emma.

“Are you insane?! It’s in middle of the night!” Emma screamed louder over Draco’s shouts at the bumbling idiots from the Auror department. One of the Aurors, with green hair, tripped over a tower of Hermione’s books and sent them crashing to the floor.

“Are you Mister Draco Malfoy?” Asked the one in charge. The other Aurors were shrinking in the background allowing the leader of the group to do the talking.

“Yes,” he answered. Well, this wasn’t good.

“You’re under arrest for violation of your terms of probation.”

“WHAT?!” Hermione shouted so loud that Draco jumped.

“Mister Malfoy has violated the terms of the contract section 5 a,c, and d. Mister Malfoy, put the child down and drop your wand to the floor.” The Auror in charge commanded. Auror Bartley was standing in the back, a sad smile on his face. He shook his head sadly. Draco knew that look, he was on the receiving end of it many times when Draco was allowed to eat with the rest of the prison. If anyone spoke badly about his mother, and they did often, Draco would end up in a fight. Bartley would walk over and calmly tell him to comply like he was right now. He was telling him he was going to make everything worse.

“Hand the wand over and get on your knees, or we’ll do it for you.” Barked the Auror in charge. 

“He most certainly will  _ not  _ !” Hermione moved to stand in front of Draco. Flicking her wand, she sent a Patronus to Minerva. “You need a signed order from the Wizengamot to arrest him. Seeing as it’s three in the morning and you don’t have a signed document, I suggest you get the bloody hell out of my daughter’s bedroom.” 

“Ma’am, please step aside or I’ll be forced to move you, as well as your daughter. We wouldn’t want either of you to get hurt would we?” The Auror sneered, while Draco turned his body shielding Emma from the Aurors. Silence reigned over the entire room and Draco took an involuntary step back when he saw Hermione’s hair spark at the very ends. Raising his wand he casts a Patronus, sending it to Potter and praying to the muggle gods that he got it.

Draco froze. Shit. Shit. Shit. “Hermione,” he warned.

“Did. You. Just. Threaten. MY CHILD?!” She roared.

“Fuck.” Draco lurched forward in time to stop Hermione from cursing all of the Aurors. “Hermione, you need to calm down. They weren’t threatening you.”

Draco saw recognition in the Auror with green hairs eyes, as they were all now properly looking at Hermione. The singular Auror took several steps backward.

“Did you just threaten an Auror? Looks like Malfoy won’t be the only one whose spending the night in Azkaban-” The Auror stepped forward, but before he had a chance to raise his wand several shouts of Expelliarmus rang through the room.

“Mister Chaser! Put down your wand immediately!” The Auror snarled at a terrifying Minerva McGonagall clad in her nightdress. 

The Auror snarled, the green haired Auror in the back looking at him in alarm. Raising his wand Auror Chaser, the green haired Auror spoke. “Begging your pardon Headmistress McGonagall, but I don’t believe that’s Adam Chaser.”

Minerva stared at the Auror, “What in the bloody hell are you talking about Stebbins?”

“Adam Chaser is my flatmate and he would  _ never  _ aim a wand at a child. So,” Stebbins turned his wand on Auror Chaser. “Who the bloody hell are you?”

The rest of the Aurors cleared out of the way looking back and forth between the two in confusion. Where the bloody hell was Harry?

“Who are you?” Stebbins repeated. When Chaser refused to answer, he shrugged. “Doesn’t matter, I’ve been stalling most of this time. Your hour should be up any moment now. We’ll find out who you really are.”

Draco pulled Hermione out of the way and away from the two advancing Aurors.

Chaser looked from around the room contemplating his decision. He came to a decision just as his body jerked erratically, his wand fell from his hand as he began to cease, but not before sparks were set off, setting several of Hermione’s bookshelves on fire.

Draco stumbled backward before tripping and slamming back into Emma’s bed. Hermione shouted in pain as he fell on top of her.

Draco reached out for Emma, to make sure she wasn’t hurt in the fall. She had stopped crying and-

“EMMA!” Draco was on his feet immediately. “LUMOS MAXIMA!”

The room filled with blinding light as Draco ran passed the Aurors and after the fleeing black robes going through the front door. “EMMA!”

Draco could hear Emma’s screams as he caught a glimpse of her red hair whipping in the wind as the kidnapper raced down the hallway. They made a sharp left and Draco felt her terrified scream in his bones before he heard it. They were closing in on the main doors. They were going to take his Emma.

“EMMA!” Draco shouted, just as darkness descended upon him. The last thing he was aware of before blackness overtook him was the terrified screams of his little girl.

 


	9. Chapter 9: Taken

**The Professor**

**Chapter 9: Taken**

* * *

 

Hermione screamed as a dark-haired man ripped Emma from Draco’s arms while he was distracted by the Aurors. She reached out for her daughter, just as a spell hit Draco and the impact through the two of them back into Emma’s princess bed. A sickening crunching noise cut through the room, there was some pain but Hermione couldn't feel anything.

Someone had just taken her daughter.  

“NO!” She screamed. Hermione tried to stand but her leg was broken and her legs gave out under her sending her tumbling to the floor in shock. Draco was struggling to get up and after noticing his arms were empty began searching the room frantically.

“EMMA!” Draco and Hermione screamed simultaneously as the door slammed open. The wizard sprinting out of the door with her baby. Draco took off after Emma, not stopping to spare Hermione a glance. 

Hermione struggled to stand. “Emma. Emma. Emma.”

“Hermione, your leg is broken for the love of Merlin, stop moving!” Professor McGonagall shouted obliviously as she hurried over to her. Adam Chaser’s imposter was being bound by his roommate as the rest of the Aurors put out the flames now spreading all over the room. The remaining Aurors were shouting amongst themselves.

Apparently, none of them could find the paperwork for Draco's violation. They were all crowded around a blue glowing parchment. "I don't understand, only an Auror can trigger the monitoring charm. There's nothing on the monitor charm."

"Are you sure?" one of the younger Aurors asked.

"Of course, I'm bloody sure. I'm looking at it!"

The younger Auror rolled her eyes, "Well, then who set the fire?"

The kidnapper, he had set the fire. It was a distraction. It was all a distraction. They were never after Draco, they were after Emma.

“Minerva,” Hermione grabbed Professor McGonagall's hand. The elderly woman froze in shock at hearing Hermione call her by her first name. “It was a setup. The Auror in the back. He took Emma. He set the fire-”

Hermione didn’t need to get the rest of the sentence out, Professor McGonagall hands outstretched, her expression positively terrifying. She closed her eyes and murmured spell upon spell.

The Aurors, upon hearing Hermione’s screams about her daughter, abandoned their argument and took off down the hallway after the kidnapper. Free of Minerva, Hermione crawled towards the door, pausing only to snatch the small box off the floor and deposit it into her pocket. Professor Sinistra helped Hermione off the floor, nonverbally wrapping her leg in a cast. The two limped into the hallway where Hermione could hear the clanging of the school being put into lockdown.

“Emma.” She croaked. Aurora wrapped Hermione’s arms and hoisted her up. The two hurried, as fast as they could, following the wreckage and the shouting and pointing portraits down the hallway. Standing in front of the front doorway of Hogwarts was the Aurors. They were frantically trying to take the wards down. Two of the Aurors were attempting to revive Draco, who was unconscious on the floor.

A strangled cry escaped Hermione's throat and the Auror that was tending to Draco looked up at Hermione, his dark eyes filled with regret and fear. “We missed, he managed to sneak out of the doors just as they slammed shut. He’ll be halfway across the world by the time Professor McGonagall gets the wards down.”

Hermione stared at the Auror his words bouncing around his head.

“No,” She whispered.

“Hermione?” Aurora called in alarm, but it was far away and she sounded like she was underwater. Oh, Merlin. She was about to pass out. 

 

 

Neville was standing proudly over his many repotted plants. Even with magic, herbology was a time consuming and difficult job. He still had no idea how Professor Sprout was able to re-pot hundreds of plants in an afternoon. Neville was convinced she had an army of Bowtruckles. Draco always complained about overflowing cauldrons but Neville had just spent three and a half hours repotting plants just for the sixth years. He still had to grade papers...

He flexed his arm, still always surprised to find muscle instead of baby fat there. Sure, he didn’t have a body like Draco’s, but he did have abs. At least, that’s what Hannah said.

Snarling and barking drew Neville out of his brain’s short detour on Hannah’s new lingerie set she purchased while in muggle London. Ignoring the noise likely coming from the forest, Neville continued with his baby blue ivy plants. They were  _ supposed  _ to be ready a month ago for Draco’s sixth years' potions class, but Emma had decided to unpot all of them back in June.

As if thinking her name summoned her, Neville heard little Emma scream. The snarling got louder and before Neville could think it properly he was running out of the Greenhouse and towards the noise.

It was dark outside, as it was three in the morning in December, and it was hard to see. It took a few seconds but he was able to locate the source of the noise. Sprinting along the side of the forest, he got closer so he could see the situation properly.

In front of an outcropping near the Forbidden forest, was a snarling and spitting black wolf with large yellow eyes. Nero had never looked more like a wolf. It was dragging a terrified Emma away from an Auror, who was trying to stun the aggressive wolf, but he obviously couldn’t given Nero's close proximity to Emma. Seeing as the Auror hadn’t seen Neville yet, he was about to offer his assistance to the Auror when he heard a shout from behind the Auror.

Hurtling up the way, was Harry Potter. Thank Merlin.

“Auror Bartley!” Harry came running up beside the Auror skidding to a stop when they were standing side by side. “I sent Gary and May back to Hogsmeade, the entire castle is on lockdown. No one can get- Shit. Emma! Emma, sweetie everything is going to be okay.”

Auror Bartley turned to Potter, his wand still trained on the wolf. Potter walked up beside him and a flash of red light filled the clearing. Neville’s vision readjusted in time to see Harry unconscious on the ground and Auror Bartley pursuing a now fleeing Emma on the back of the wolf. The trio descended into the forest, deeper than was safe for even an Auror.

Casting silencing charms on his feet and disillusionment charm on his body, Neville took off after them. Above him the moon was high, and full shining in all its glory and conveniently shining a light through the trees that Neville could follow.

Neville could hear the wolf howling as it ran through the woods. Neville chased after them, cursing as he tripped over roots and underbrush.

 

He had to get to Emma before Bartley did. They were deep enough in the forest that they could apparate. No one was stupid enough to apparate  _ inside  _ the Forbidden Forest, but you could definitely apparate out.

There was a loud crack ahead of him, followed by the wolf whimpering.

“No! Not my Nero!” Emma screamed.

Neville slowed down, hiding behind a large Sequoia tree. His wand steady, he looked out to survey the scene.

Emma was standing terrified up against the trunk of a tree. She was calling out to her ‘Nero,’ begging him to get up and to take her away. The wolf was lying on the ground bleeding from its side. It struggled to get up and move toward the terrified girl but Bartley stood in between them and when he fought back, the Auror stepped on Nero’s flank. The wolf cried out in pain as it struggled.

Annoyed, the Auror cast a jinx to tie the wolves legs and arms together. Completely out of character for a predator, it ceased moving entirely.

Having dealt with her only protector, Bartley turned towards Emma his hands outstretched. “Come here, little Emma. I’m here to protect you. See, I’m an Auror. You can trust me.”

Emma whimpered and leaned deeper into the recess in the tree. “No! Leave me alone! You’re a bad man!”

“Now, now Emma. We both know you know that’s not true. See, I haven’t done anything wrong yet.” Emma’s eyes widened, it was a look Neville knew well. A kid that was caught in a lie. For some reason, this reaction from Emma scared Neville more than anything else. “I know you have the sight. See, your daddy made the mistake in confiding in me. Then he went home to  _ you _ , and wouldn’t talk to me again. What did you  _ see _ ?!”

Emma shook her head defiantly. Bartley's patience grew thin. 

“You know I killed him, don’t you? His condition was already worsening, I just hurried up the process by a decade or two. You knew though, you knew the whole time. The fool told me, as I was poisoning him over the damn chocolates I would bring him.” Neville felt his heart constrict in his chest, this bastard killed his friend.

Bartley waved his wand as he took a cautious step forward, “Tell me, or I’ll make you.”

“I’m not scared of you.” Emma's voice wavered as she spoke and her limbs trembled, but her eyes were clear and as fierce as a six-year-old could get.

“You should be. You know what I want to know, what I will do with the information you give me. You should be very afraid.” Bartley took another cautious step forward toward the small girl.

“You’re a bad man,” Emma repeated.

“I know, we’ve established that.” Bartley took another step, as he closed in on her. Neville stepped forward but something deep in within him told him to wait, it told him there was another card at play. Another hand to be dealt before the cards were set down on the table.

Neville watched as Bartley towered over tiny little Emma. Her pretty pink unicorn pajamas stained black with mud. Bartley had his back to Neville, but he also had his back towards the wolf. A big mistake as it turned out to be.

Familiar magic hummed into the air, as the ropes released themselves from the wolf's form. Leaning forward on his front legs, the wolf slid forward almost as if he was tumbling into the earth and apparating elsewhere. Neville had the good sense to cover his mouth, which he silently thanked Godric Gryffindor for because the official Hogwarts pet was shifting into a fully grown wizard.

Neville stood in shock as familiar bellowing black robes crouched and then straightened. Emma could see, what was clearly the form of a wizard from where she was crouched. Being the child she was, she said nothing nor did she give away that there was a wizard standing immediately behind Bartley.

He drew a thin long black wand, his fingers curled around a block of runes at the base. Neville shivered as his deepest fear came back from the dead to haunt him, to taunt him.

“Stupefy,” drawled Severus Snape.

“Nero!” Cried Emma as she ran into his arms. Neville could see the blood dripping down Snape's robes and then it hit him. When he and Hannah went to South America, they picked up bits of the local language.

Nero was a Spanish name for a child that was ‘stern.’ Severus meant stern in Latin. Just how smart was Hermione Granger’s child?

Neville watched in awe as Professor Snape lifted up Emma into his arm cradling her softly. Emma whimpered into his shoulder. “I was so scared, Nero. I saw the Aurors coming and taking you away! I tried to warn you but he chased me!” Emma pointed at Bartley’s stunned body on the floor.

“I know Emma, it’s okay. I’m going to take you to your mum.” Neville watched as Emma’s entire body stilled. Her eyes clouded, as she stared off unseeing for several moments before she jerked back into our realm and began screaming hysterically.

“No! Nero! They will take you! If they see you, they will take you and you’ll never come back! Nero,” Emma began to sob uncontrollably. Snape aimed his wand at her head and a soft blue light descended over her eyes. Her tears continued to roll down her face even though she was fast asleep.

Snape murmured something before kissing her forehead. He was about to turn around when Neville came out of the shadows. “Professor Snape.”

Neville trembled under the wrath of Severus Snape, his school bully. The teacher who made him wet his bed in fear until the end of his second year.

“Longbottom,” he sneered. Having not realized it was raised, Neville lowered his wand. Snape looked at him like Neville was the imbecile Snape always said the chubby boy was.

But Neville didn’t care. “Don’t do it.”

“What?”

“If you turn yourself in, they’ll arrest you. You’ll be arrested and thrown into Azkaban until they put together a trial. It could take weeks, by the time they release you, you’ll be dead. The place is filled with Death Eaters that hate you and blame Voldemort's fall on-”

“Do you think I don’t know that, Longbottom?” He hissed.  

Neville outstretched his arms. “Turn back into the wolf, obliviate me if you want to. Let me take Emma back.”

Snape looked at him like he was insane and held Emma closer to his chest. “Absolutely not. You’d drop-”

Neville was thrown backward as red light and a deafening screaming filled the clearing. Bartley was holding Emma by her hair. The little girl was instantly awake and screaming in pain. Neville tried to rush at the madman to rescue the girl but had to dive behind a tree to avoid being burnt by a stray hex coming from one of the three wands.

Neville looked around for Snape, only to see a lump in a cluster of bushes to the far right. Great, so the wizard that knew wandless magic was out, perfect. Even if Snape  _ was  _ conscious Bartley was now holding three wands and three times more dangerous before. There was a new advantage to the situation though, predictably the noise was so loud it must have been heard by the Auror search parties. Shouts could be heard from the distance, they were closing in but not fast enough. Bartley was awake and judging his eyes, completely insane.

“MINE! SHE’S MINE!” He shouted as he dragged Emma with him. He was getting ready to disapparate. Neville made a dive for his wand but was sent flying backward with a stinging hex.

Scrambling up he charged forward again. He couldn’t let Bartley leave. If Bartley escaped, they’d never find Emma.

Just as Neville charged for the third time, a large black figure flew over his head. Nero landed with a crunch on Bartley’s head snarling and sending the wizard tumbling to the ground. He released his grip on Emma, just as Nero’s jaws closed around his neck. Neville rushed forward and yanked her away just a deafening snap resonating around the suddenly still forest around them.

Neville held Emma tightly to his chest, shielding her eyes as Nero tossed Bartley’s head aside. He howled at the moon, just as a woman’s scream pierced the night.

“EMMA!”

“Hermione.” Neville breathed. Nero, or more accurately the animagus version of Professor Snape crouched and crawled to where Neville was sitting with shields erected around them, in case the Aurors shot first and asked questions later. His fear was founded when two minutes later, Neville was blinded by light produced by at least ten stunners being hurled in his direction.

When Neville was finally able to see again, Emma had one hand buried into Nero’s bloodstained fur.

“Good wolfy. Good Nero.”

Hermione was limping with the help of Draco and when their eyes met Neville’s, he could see the crippling fear and guilt covering both of their features. They were going to make great parents the two of them. Turning his body he faced them, so they could see Emma awake and petting Nero.

The two ran towards Neville and collapsed on the ground. “Emma!”

The three adults became engulfed in a hug with Emma, as tears were shared by all. Hermione and Draco had tears of relief running down their weary cheeks. Emma was exhausted and terrified and cried in her family's embrace. Neville. Well, Neville laughed because he was currently in the middle of a family hug that involved his god-daughter, Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, and Severus Snape. Wouldn't you?

 

 


	10. Chapter 10: Granger-Malfoy-Weasley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter. I just wanted to say thank you to msmerlin, my amazing beta. I wasn't going to publish this story and she gave me the push and confidence I needed to post it. Thank you.

**The Professor**

**Chapter 10: Granger-Malfoy-Weasley**

* * *

It took several months, but it was discovered that Auror Bartley had in fact poisoned Ron Weasley. His ex-wife had come forward after his death and gave a detailed account to the Wizengamot about the frightening variety of poisons he made for Death Eaters during the war. Bartley had been an integral part of Voldemort taking over the Ministry as he was charged with poisoning any muggle or muggleborn sympathizers. The Wizengamot charged him with a total of forty-three murders posthumously.

While Bartley only wanted money from Draco, it was his connection to Hermione that had him fake a violation to Draco's parole. After much research and an embarrassing in-depth analysis of the evening's events, Hermione and Harry hypothesized that when Draco bit her lip Bartley used it as the basis for an assault charge.

The Auror that was under polyjuice? Well, Bartley had invented a Five-Timed Polyjuice effect. He gave an individual Polyjuice and than in the fifty-ninth minute, he fed them another Polyjuice potion with a different hair core. He repeated the process three more times until the wearer would be unrecognizable when the potion did wear off.

Lee Jordan was completely baffled when he woke up in a cell in the Ministry. The last memory he had was leaving Fred's funeral and being introduced to an Auror. Bartley had been imperioing Jordan for years so that he could control Azkaban. After searching his Gringotts and flat, they found he made more money during his time as unofficial Warden of Azkaban then the Ministry had in their coffers.

That and he had apparently stolen a lot of money from the Black and Malfoy families. Draco was still surprised that he had to team up with Harry, of all people, to get their valuables back. It was a good experience though, as the two became friends during their search for the belongings of their dead parents and godfathers.

After his brave save of little Emma, Neville insisted that a statue be erected of Nero in the bold colors of Gryffindor. Neville was persistent on the coloring as he was quite sure that any dog that was brave enough to take on a seasoned Auror was clearly a Gryffindor. Someone should have told that to the gigantic mutt because Nero, hated the thing and was constantly peeing on it.

Draco closed his eyes as he paced. It had been a long year and a half. There were ups and downs. The Wizarding world was not ready for the Hermione Granger, war heroine and all around good girl to be dating Draco Malfoy.

It didn't matter though because they were in love and Hermione's adopted family accepted him. Two days after the attack on Emma, Draco received a knitted atrocity at breakfast in the Great Hall. Hermione, Neville, Alicia, and Minerva all stared at the thing like it was the bloody elder wand.

He was about to give it to Nero as a chew toy when Hermione burst into tears and threw herself onto his lap blubbering about family and how very happy she was. Students catcalled and whistled. Lovely.

"I still don't get it. Why am I keeping this atrocious grey thing?"

"It's a symbol, Draco," Minerva announced.

Draco rolled his eyes. "A symbol of what?"

Alicia Spinnet set down her goblet of pumpkin juice. "Acceptance. Mrs. Weasley only makes Weasley sweaters for her family."

Draco looked at the lumpy grey thing with interest. Didn't Potter have several of these? He knew because it was the only clothes he owned while they were at Hogwarts that was his actual size. Everything else looked like it was previously owned by a heavy set cross-dressing elephant.

"So, the Weasleys…"

Hermione nodded through her tears. Draco smiled. He had a family.

"Draco?" Hermione called out. Quickly rubbing his sweaty palms together, he pulled out a small box that was given to him by Emma a year and a half ago.

"Hermione?"

"Why are all the lights out?"

"Can you come here?" Draco heard her stumble as she walked into their bedroom. Shite. Emma was supposed to pick up her Quidditch set before going to Neville's for the night.

Hermione walked into the room her eyes wide and her mouth open. Around them were hundreds of floating candles and thousands of tiny rose petals. "Draco, what's going on?"

"I asked the house elves to take a break from the room today."

"You did this yourself?"

"Yes. I wanted it to be perfect." Hermione eyes brightened with understanding and her hands flew to cover her mouth. "See, Ron gave Emma a box when she was three. He told her it was her job to find someone worthy of the love of his life."

Draco smiled up at the love of his life from the floor, where he was down on one knee. "Emma, gave this to me that night but I told her to take it back. I asked her to give it me when she sees us together and happy with her eyes and not the sight."

Hermione's tears were rolling down her cheeks. It reminded him of when she found out he was sleeping on the floor every night. She joined him and helped him until he was able to sleep in a bed, but only with her. When she went away overnight, he returned to his rug or Emma snuggled with him in her bed.

"Hermione Jean Granger?" Hermione whimpered through her fingers. "Would you do me the greatest honor in all of wizard and muggle kind and marry me?"

Hermione nodded and Draco stood up and kissed her thoroughly whilst sliding his mother's wedding ring onto her slender fingers.


End file.
